riar 


Robert  Alexander\Vason 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF 
CALIFORNIA 

SAN  DIEGO 


FRIAR    TUCK 


He  shot  his  hand  across  an'  pulled  his  gun  quick  as  a  flash ;  but 
Horace  didn't  move,  he  just  sat  still,  with  a  friendly  smile  on 

his  face 

FRONTISPIECE.     See  page  22.? 


FRIAR  TUCK 

BEING  THE  CHRONICLES  OF  THE  REVEREND  JOHN 

CARMICHAEL,  OF  WYOMING,  U.S.A.,  AS  SET 

FORTH   AND   EMBELLISHED   BY  HIS 

FRIEND    AND    ADMIRER 

HAPPY   HAWKINS 

AND    HERE    RECORDED    BY 

ROBERT  ALEXANDER  WASON 

AUTHOR  OF   "HAPPY  HAWKINS,"    "THE  KNIGHT-ERRANT" 
ETC. 

ILLUSTRATED    BY 

STANLEY  L.  WOOD 


BOSTON 
SMALL,  MAYNARD   AND   COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


COPYRIGHT,   1912 

BY  SMALL,   MAYNARD  AND  COMPANY 
(INCORPORATED) 


Entered  at  Stationers'  Hall 
Two  printings  before  publication 


THE    UNIVERSITY    PRESS,    CAMBRIDGE,    U.S.A. 


MANY  there  are  who  respond  to  the  commonplace, 
monotonous  call  'of  Duty,  and  year  after  year  uncom- 
plainingly spend  their  lives  on  the  treadmill  of  Routine ; 
but  who  still  feel  in  their  hearts  the  call  of  the  open 
road,  the  music  of  the  stars,  the  wine  of  the  western 
wind,  and  the  thrilling  abandon  of  a  mad  gallop  out 
beyond  speed  limits  and  grass  signs  to  where  life  has 
ceased  to  be  a  series  of  cogs  and — a  man  is  still  a 
man. 

To   the  members  of  this  fraternity,  whose  emblem, 
hidden  behind  deep  and  steadfast  eyes,  is  often  missed 
by   man,  but  always  recognized  by  dogs  and  horses,  I 
dedicate  this  book,  in  the  hope  that  for  an  hour  or  two 
it  may  lift  the  pressure  a  little. 

R.  A.  W. 


JUST   BETWEEN  YOU   AND    ME 

REVIEWS  are  not  infrequently  colored  by  a  temporary  ele- 
vation of  the  critic's  mind  (or  a  temporary  depression  of  the 
critic's  liver),  advertisements  are  not  invariably  free  from 
bias ;  so,  perhaps,  a  few  words  of  friendly  warning  will  not 
be  considered  impertinent. 

Whosoever  is  squeamishly  sensitive  as  to  the  formal  tech- 
nique of  literary  construction  will  save  himself  positive  irri- 
tation by  avoiding  this  book.  It  is  a  told,  rather  than  a 
written  story;  and  this  is  a  compromise  which  defies  Art 
and  frankly  turns  to  the  more  elastic  methods  of  Nature. 

It  is  supposed  to  be  told  by  an  outdoor  man  in  those  de- 
lightful moments  of  relaxation  when  the  restraint  of  self- 
consciousness  is  dropped,  and  the  spirit  flows  forth  with  a 
freedom  difficult  to  find,  outside  the  egoism  of  childhood. 
This  general  suggestion  is  easily  tossed  out ;  but  the  reader 
must  supply  the  details  —  the  night  camps  with  the  pipes 
sending  up  incense  about  the  tiny  fires,  the  winter  evenings 
when  the  still  cold  lurks  at  the  threshold  or  the  blizzard 
howls  around  the  log  corners;  or  those  still  more  elusive 
moments  when  the  riding  man  shifts  his  weight  to  a  single 
thigh,  and  tells  the  inner  story  which  has  been  rising  from 
his  open  heart  to  his  closed  lips  for  many  a  long  mile. 

Nor*  will  these  details  suffice  to  complete  the  atmosphere 
in  which,  bit  by  bit,  the  story  is  told.  The  greatest  charm  in 
the  told  story  comes  direct  from  the  teller ;  and,  toil  as  we 
will  over  printed  pages,  they  obstinately  refuse  to  reproduce 
the  twinkle  of  bright,  deep-set  eyes,  the  whimsical  twist 


JUST  BETWEEN  YOU  AND  ME 

which  gives  character  to  a  commonplace  word,  the  subtile 
modulations  of  a  mellow  voice,  the  discriminating  accent 
which  makes  a  sentence  fire  when  spoken,  and  only  ashes 
when  written;  or,  hardest  of  all,  those  eloquent  pauses  and 
illuminating  gestures  which  convey  a  climax  neither  tongue 
nor  pen  dare  attempt. 

Happy  Hawkins  is  complex,  but  the  basic  foundation  of 
his  character  is  simplicity.  His  audience  is  usually  a  mixed 
one,  men  of  the  range  and  an  Easterner  or  two,  fortunate 
enough  to  find  the  way  into  his  confidence.  Occasionally  he 
amuses  himself  by  talking  to  the  one  group  over  the  heads 
of  the  other ;  but  even  then,  his  own  simplicity  is  but  thinly 
veiled.  The  phases  of  life  which  he  holds  lightly  are  ex- 
ploited with  riotous  recklessness;  but  whoever  would  visit 
his  private  shrines  must  tread  with  reverent  step. 

His  exaggerations  are  not  to  deceive,  but  to  magnify  — 
an  adjunct  to  expression  invariably  found  among  primitive 
people.  A  brass  monkey  is  really  not  sensitive  to  variations 
of  temperature ;  and  yet,  even  among  the  civilized,  a  pecul- 
iarly vivid  impression  is  conveyed  by  stating  that  a  par- 
ticular cold  snap  has  had  a  disintegrating  effect  upon  the 
integrity  of  a  brass  monkey.  There  is  a  philosophy  of 
exaggeration  which  is  no  kin  to  falsehood. 

Happy  has  an  eager,  hungry,  active  mind,  a  mind  worthy 
of  careful  cultivation ;  but  forced  by  circumstances  to  gather 
its  nourishment  along  lines  similar  to  those  adopted  by  the 
meek  and  lowly  sponge.  A  sponge  is  earnest,  patient,  and 
industrious ;  but,  fixed  to  a  submerged  stone  as  it  is,  it  is 
hampered  by  limitations  which  no  amount  of  personal  am- 
bition is  quite  able  to  overcome.  As  Happy  himself  was 
fond  of  saying :  "  The  thing  'at  sets  most  strangers  again 
each  other,  is  the  fact  that  each  insists  on  judgin'  every- 


JUST  BETWEEN  YOU  AND  ME 

thing  from  his  own  standpoint.  A  cow-puncher  gets  the  idee 
that  because  an  Eastener  can't  sit  comfortable  on  a  bronco 
when  it 's  sunfishin'  or  twistin'  ends,  he  jes  nachely  ain't 
fit  to  clutter  up  the  surface  o'  the  earth ;  while  the  Eastener 
is  inclined  to  estimate  the  puncher  an'  his  pony  as  bein'  on 
the  same  intellectual  level.  If  they  'd  just  open  up  an'  ex- 
amine each  other  impartial,  they  'd  mighty  soon  see  'at  the 
difference  in  'em  came  from  what  they  did,  instead  o'  the 
choice  o'  their  lines  o'  business  dependin'  on  their  natural 
make-up.  I  once  had  a  no-account  pinto  which  refused  to 
squat  back  on  the  rope,  and  I  rejoiced  exceeding  when  I 
got  seventy-five  bucks  for  him ;  but  the  feller  I  took  advan- 
tage of  clipped  his  mane,  docked  his  tail,  introduced  him  into 
swell-society,  and  got  three  hundred  for  him  as  a  polo  pony ; 
which  all  goes  to  show  —  "  (The  finish  of  this  is  an  expan- 
sive wave  of  the  hand,  a  tilt  of  the  head  to  the  right,  and  an 
indescribably  droll  expression.) 

The  above  is  a  fair  sample  of  the  leisurely  way  in  which 
Happy  Hawkins  tells  a  story.  This  is  not  the  proper  way 
to  tell  a  story.  A  story  should  travel  an  air-line  and  not 
stop  at  the  smaller  stations,  while  Happy  prefers  to  take 
his  bed  along  on  a  spare  horse  and  camp  out  wherever  the 
mood  strikes  him.  The  reader  who  delights  in  a  story  which 
speeds  along  like  a  limited,  will  probably  be  disappointed 
in  this  book ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  the  reader  who  enjoys 
the  intimate  association  which  is  lighted  with  the  evening 
camp  fire,  runs  a  risk  of  finding  some  relaxation  in  taking 
another  little  trip  with  Happy  Hawkins. 

R.  A.  W. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I  THE  MEETING i 

II  THE  BETTIN'  BARBER  o'  BOGGS 15 

III  ABOVE  THE  DUST 34 

IV  TY  JONES 41 

V  THE  HOLD-UP 49 

VI  A  REMINISCENCE 57 

VII  HORACE  WALPOLE  BRADFORD 66 

VIII  A  CASE  OF  NERVES 76 

IX  TREATING  THE  CASE 84 

X  INJUNS  ! 93 

XI  BENEFITS  OF  FASTING 102 

XII  A  COMPLETE  CURE in 

XIII  AN  UNEXPECTED  CACHE 119 

XIV  HAPPY'S  NEW  AMBITION 126 

XV  TENDER  FEELINGS 133 

XVI  THEMIS  IN  THE  ROCKIES 144 

XVII  KIT  MURRAY 158 

XVIII  TESTING  THE  FRIAR'S  NERVE 171 

XIX  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  BUSINESS 180 

XX  QUARRELING  FOR  PEACE 193 

XXI  PEACE  TO  START  A  QUARREL 203 

XXII  A  PROGRESSIVE  HUNT 214 

XXIII  A  LITTLE  GUN-PLAY.  222 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXIV  NIGHT-PROWLERS 233 

XXV  THE  TRADE-RAT'S  CHRISTMAS-GIFT  ....  242 

XXVI  A  CONTESTED  LIFE-TITLE 250 

XXVII  A  STRANGE  ALLIANCE 261 

XXVIII  THE  HEART  OF  HAPPY  HAWKINS 271 

XXIX  THE  LITTLE  TOWN  OF  Bosco 276 

XXX  TY  JONES  GETS  A  WOMAN 284 

XXXI  JUSTICE  UNDELAYED 296 

XXXII  THE  FRIAR  GOES  ALONE  .........  305 

XXXIII  THE  FRIAR  GIVEN  Two  WEEKS     .....  313 

XXXIV  A  CROSS  FOR  EVERY  MAN 321 

XXXV  THE  FRIAR  A  COMPLICATION 330 

XXXVI  A  SIDE-TRIP  TO  SKELTY'S 337 

XXXVII  PROMOTHEUS  IN  THE  TOILS 348 

XXXVIII  OLAF  RUNS  THE  BLOCKADE 357 

XXXIX  SKIRMISHES 366 

XL  AN  IRRITATING  GRIN 373 

XLI  THE  NIGHT-ATTACK ;  .  .  .   .  382 

XLII  HAND  TO  HAND 397 

XLIII  THE  GIFT  OF  THE  DAWN 410 

XLIV  TY  JONES  NODS  His  HEAD 419 

XLV  THE  LITTLE  GUST  o'  WIND 428 

XLVT  THE  FINAL  MOVES 441 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

He  shot  his  hand  across  an'  pulled  his  gnn  quick  as  a  flash ; 
but  Horace  didn't  move,  he  just  sat  still,  with  a  friendly 
smile  on  his  face.  See  page  223 Frontispiece 

We  found  the  singer  on  foot  with  a  noose  about  his  neck 
an'  nine  rather  tough-lookin'  citizens  holdin'  a  parley 
with  him 6 

The  cow  had  forgot  all  about  havin'  had  her  hoofs  pared, 

an'  she  took  after  him  like  a  hungry  coyote  .     .     .     .     106 

"  I  intend  to  kill  you,"  said  Olaf,  as  calm  as  though  talkin' 
about  a  sick  sheep 

"  It  would  be  a  foolish  waste  of  time,"  replied  the  Friar,  as 
if  he  was  advisin'  a  ten-year-old  boy  not  to  fish  when 
the  Blue  Bull  was  high  and  muddy.  "  It  wouldn't  do 
any  good,  and  I  shall  not  allow  it " 173 


FRIAR    TUCK 


FRIAR  TUCK 

CHAPTER  ONE 

THE   MEETING 

IT'S  a  curious  thing  —  life.  Ya  might  just  as  well  ask  a 
kitten  to  chase  her  own  tail  or  a  dog  to  bay  at  the  evenin' 
star,  or  a  periodical  spring  to  run  constant,  as  to  ask  a  feller 
right  out  to  tell  a  story.  Some  things  can  only  be  done 
spontaneous. 

Friar  Tuck  used  to  say  'at  whenever  he  could  cut  it,  he 
allus  got  on  the  lee  side  o'  human  nature  and  let  it  blow 
down  on  him  natural ;  and  my  way  o'  gettin'  to  the  lee  side 
o'  human  nature  in  story-tellin'  is  not  to  ask  for  a  story, 
but  to  start  tellin'  one  myself.  And  it 's  a  good  plan  not  to 
put  over  too  good  a  one  either ;  'cause  if  it  seems  as  though 
a  feller  is  short  run  on  stories,  some  listener  is  likely  to  take 
pity  on  him  and  fit  him  out  with  a  new  assortment  so  as 
he  won't  be  such  bad  company  for  himself  when  he  's  alone 
again.  This  is  the  way  I  've  picked  up  most  o'  my  stories. 

Then  again,  it 's  allus  hard  for  me  to  tell  what  is  the  true 
beginnin'  of  a  story.  It 's  easy  enough  to  tell  cream  from 
milk  —  after  the  milk  has  stood  long  enough  for  the  cream 
to  rise  to  the  top;  but  the  great  trouble  is,  that  a  man's 
own  recollections  have  n't  stood  long  enough  for  him  to  skim 
out  just  what  part  he  might  be  in  need  of. 

Without  meanin'  the  least  mite  o'  disrespect  to  any  one,  it 
does  seem  to  me  that  if  I  was  able  to  plan  out  any  sort  of 


2  FRIAR   TUCK 

a  memory  at  all,  I  could  have  made  a  few  improvements 
on  the  ones  we  now  have. 

My  own  memory  is  as  stubborn  as  a  mule  and  as  grippy  as 
a  bulldog.  What  it  does  remember,  it  calls  up  in  the  shape 
o'  pictures;  and  I  see  old  things  just  as  plain  as  livin', 
breathin'  beings;  but  try  as  I  would,  I  never  could  keep 
my  memory  from  loadin'  herself  down  with  so  many  trifles 
that  sometimes  I  've  had  to  spade  it  over  as  many  as  six 
times  to  turn  up  some  important  item  which  I  was  actually 
in  need  of.  When  my  memory  's  in  a  good  humor,  I  like 
to  start  a  pipe  and  lean  back  and  just  watch  old  scenes  over 
again,  the  same  as  if  I  was  in  a  the-ater ;  and  I  can  see  every 
twinkle  in  a  pair  o'  well-known  eyes,  which  have  been  lookin' 
up  through  six  feet  of  earth  for  this  many  a  long  year, 
and  I  can  hear  —  actually  hear — :the  half  tones  ripplin' 
through  voices  which  have  no  more  part  in  my  to-day  than 
the  perfume  o'  last  year's  flowers ;  and  then,  like  as  not,  my 
memory  '11  lay  her  ears  back  and  refuse  to  confide  what 
I  did  with  my  shavin'  soap. 

When  I  look  back  at  my  own  life  and  compare  it  with 
others,  it  seems  like  a  curious,  patch-worky  sort  of  affair, 
and  not  much  more  my  own  than  the  lives  o'  those  others 
with  which  I  compare  it.  I  allus  liked  my  work,  and  yet  it 
never  attracted  my  attention  much.  Side-trips  and  such-like 
stand  out  plain  as  figures  in  a  hand-painted  picture,  such 
as  I  've  seen  in  hotels  down  at  Frisco ;  but  the  work  part  is 
just  a  blotchy,  colorless  sort  of  smudge,  the  same  as  the 
background  o'  one  o'  these  pictures. 

When  I  first  took  on  with  Jabez  —  every  one  called  him  ol' 
Cast  Steel  Judson  at  this  time  —  they  wanted  to  know  if  I 
could  ride.  I  was  nothin'  but  a  regular  kid  then,  so  I  handed 
in  a  purty  high  average  as  to  my  ridin'  ability;  though, 


THE    MEETING  3 

truth  to  tell,  I  wasn't  no  bronco  buster  those  days.  They 
gave  me  a  genuwine  mean  one  as  a  starter,  and  told  me  to 
ride  him  clean  or  step  off  and  walk. 

At  that  time  I  did  n't  even  know  how  to  discard  a  hoss 
when  I  couldn't  stand  the  poundin'  any  longer;  so  when 
I  felt  my  backbone  gettin'  wedged  too  far  into  my  skull,  I 
made  a  grab  for  the  horn.  My  luck  was  on  the  job  that  day 
and  I  got  the  quirt,  instead.  At  his  next  pitch,  my  hand  went 
up  as  natural  as  ever,  and  I  slammed  down  the  quirt  as  hard 
as  I  could.  It  landed  on  a  ticklish  spot  and  before  he  had 
time  to  make  up  his  mind,  the  cayuse  had  started  to  run, 
me  whalin'  him  at  every  jump  and  givin'  thanks  between  'em. 
I  rode  him  good  and  out  as  soon  as  he  started  to  stampede, 
and  they  all  thought  I  was  a  real  rider.  Well,  this  gave  me 
a  lot  o'  trouble  —  tryin'  to  live  up  to  my  reputation  —  but 
that 's  a  good  sort  o'  trouble  for  a  kid  to  have. 

Now  I  can  feel  all  the  sensations  o'  this  ride  as  plain  as 
though  it  was  this  mornin' ;  but  the's  a  thousand  rides  since 
then  which  have  all  melted  an'  run  together.  The  same  with 
most  o'  the  rest  o'  my  work:  I  allus  aimed  to  do  my  bit  a 
little  quicker  and  cleaner  'n  the  rest ;  but  as  soon  as  I 
learned  all  the  tricks  of  it,  it  fell  into  a  rut,  like  breathin'  and 
seein'.  Easteners  seem  to  have  an  idee  that  our  life  must 
be  as  carefree  and  joyous  as  goin'  to  a  different  circus  every 
day  in  the  year;  but  it  ain't:  it's  work,  just  like  all  other 
work.  We  're  a  good  bit  like  our  ridin'  ponies :  when  we  're 
in  the  thick  of  it  we  're  too  busy  to  take  notice ;  and  when 
we  're  through,  we  're  hungry  —  and  that 's  about  the  whole 
story. 

Jabez  Judson  was  a  high  peak,  and  once  a  feller  knew  him, 
he  never  ran  any  risk  o'  gettin'  him  mixed  up  with  any  one 
else.  He  was  the  settest  in  his  ways  of  any  man  I  ever  had 


4  FRIAR   TUCK 

much  doin's  with ;  but  he  did  n't  change  about  any  —  if  he 
faced  north  on  a  question  one  day,  he  faced  north  on  it 
always;  so  a  feller  could  tell  just  how  any  action  would 
strike  him,  and  this  made  livin'  with  him  as  accurate  as 
workin'  out  a  problem  in  multiplication,  which  I  claim  to 
hold  qualities  o'  comfort. 

His  daughter,  Barbie,  was  a  little  tot  when  I  first  took  on ; 
and  she  was  the  apple  of  ol'  Cast  Steel's  eye;  an'  his  curb 
bit,  and  his  spurs  as  well.  Barbie  and  I  were  pals  from  one 
end  o'  the  trail  to  the  other,  and  this  explains  a  lot  o'  my 
life  which  otherwise  would  n't  have  any  answer.  My  ordi- 
nary work  at  the  Diamond  Dot  was  n't  out-standin'  enough 
to  give  me  any  special  privileges;  but  I  happened  to  come 
back  one  time  when  the  Brophy  gang  was  about  to  clean 
things  out,  and  Jabez  gave  me  credit  for  savin'  Barbie's  life ;  so 
'at  he  did  n't  check  up  my  time  any  and  I  did  purty  much  as 
I  pleased,  only  quittin'  him  when  I  could  n't  put  up  with  his 
set  ways  any  longer.  I  aimed  to  play  fair  with  Jabez,  and  he 
with  me;  but  once  in  a  while  we  locked  horns,  though  not 
often,  takin'  everything  into  account. 

It  was  shortly  after  ol'  Cast  Steel  had  brought  in  the  D 
lazy  L  brand,  an'  we  was  still  pickin'  up  strays  here  an'  there. 
Whenever  he  bought  up  a  brand  he  allus  put  the  Diamond 
Dot  on  the  stuff  as  soon  as  he  could,  his  mark  commandin' 
more  respect  than  some  o'  the  little  fellers'. 

When  I  'd  get  tired  o'  loafing  about  the  home  place,  I  'd 
take  one  o'  the  boys  an'  we  'd  start  out  to  look  for  stray 
bosses.  Spider  Kelley  was  with  me  this  time,  an'  we  had 
meandered  here  an'  there  until  we  had  picked  up  a  big  enough 
string  to  stand  as  an  excuse  for  our  trip,  and  were  about 
minded  to  start  back. 

We  had  just  forded  a  little  crick  when  we  heard  a  man's 


THE    MEETING  5 

voice  singin'  off  to  the  right.  The'  was  a  mess  o'  cottonwoods 
between  us,  an'  we  stopped  to  listen.  Now  I  had  never 
heard  that  voice  before,  an'  I  had  never  seen  the  man  who 
was  running  it;  but  right  then  I  was  ready  to  believe  any- 
thing he  had  a  mind  to  tell  me.  It  was  a  deep,  rich  voice; 
but  mellow  an'  tender,  an'  a  feller  could  tell  that  he  was 
singin'  simply  because  he  could  n't  help  it. 

Spider  looked  at  me  with  his  face  shinin',  an'  I  could  feel 
a  sort  o'  pleasant  heat  in  my  own  face.  The'  was  a  lift  an' 
a  swing,  and  a  sort  of  rally-around-the-flag  to  this  voice 
which  got  right  into  ya,  an'  made  you  want  to  do  something. 

"  'T  is  thine  to  save  from  perils  of  perdition 

The  souls  for  whom  the  Lord  His  life  laid  down; 
Beware,  lest,  slothful  to  fulfill  thy  mission, 

Thou  lose  one  jewel  that  should  deck  His  crown. 
Publish  glad  tidings;  tidings  of  peace; 
Tidings  of  Jesus,  redemption  and  release." 

"  That  feller  can  sing  some,"  sez  Spider  Kelley;  but  just 
then  the  ponies  turned  back  on  us  an'  by  the  time  we  had 
started  'em  on  again,  the  singer  had  passed  on  up  the  trail, 
so  I  did  n't  make  any  reply. 

I  was  tryin'  to  figure  out  whether  it  was  the  words  or  the 
tune  or  the  voice,  or  what  it  was  that  had  made  my  whole 
body  vibrate  like  a  fiddle  string.  As  I  said  before,  I  see 
things  in  pictures  an'  I  also  remember  'em  in  pictures:  a 
sound  generally  calls  up  a  picture  to  me  an'  it  ain't  allus 
a  picture  anyways  connected  with  the  sound  itself.  This 
song,  for  instance,  had  called  to  my  mind  a  long  procession 
of  marchin'  men  with  banners  wavin'  an'  set  faces,  shinin' 
with  a  glad  sort  o'  recklessness.  There  ain't  no  accountin' 
for  the  human  mind:  I  had  never  seen  such  a  procession 
in  real  life,  nor  even  in  a  picture;  but  that  was  what  this 


6  FRIAR   TUCK 

song  out  there  on  the  open  range  suggested  to  me,  an'  I 
hurried  out  o'  the  cottonwoods  eager  to  measure  the  singer 
with  my  open  eyes. 

When  we  climbed  up  out  of  the  woods,  we  saw  him  goin' 
up  the  pass  ahead  of  us  with  our  ponies  followin'  behind  as 
though  they  was  part  of  his  outfit.  We  could  just  catch 
glimpses  of  him ;  enough  to  show  that  he  was  a  big  man  on 
a  big  roan  hoss,  an'  that  he  was  a  ridin'  man  in  spite  o'  the 
fact  that  he  was  wearin'  black  clothes  made  up  Eastern  style. 
He  was  still  singin'  his  song,  an'  I  straightened  up  in  my 
saddle,  an'  beat -time  with  my  hand  as  though  I  held  a  gen- 
uwine  sword  in  it ;  which  is  a  tool  I  've  never  had  much 
doin's  with. 

We  scrambled  on  up  the  trail,  an'  when  we  reached  the 
top  we  found  a  little  park  with  the  grass  knee  high  an'  a 
fringe  o'  spruce  trees  about  it.  The  song  had  come  to  a 
sudden  end,  an'  we  found  the  singer  on  foot  with  a  noose 
about  his  neck  an'  nine  rather  tough-lookin'  citizens  holdin'  a 
parley  with  him.  We  came  to  the  same  sort  of  a  stop  the 
song  had,  an'  Spider  Kelley  sez  in  a  low  tone,  "  What  do  ya 
suppose  this  is  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  sez  I,  touchin'  my  pony,  "  but  I  'm  with 
the  singer  " ;  so  me  an'  Spider  rode  on  down  to  'em. 

I  purty  well  sensed  what  it  was :  the'  was  a  heap  o'  re- 
brandin'  bein'  done  at  that  time,  an'  stringin'  a  man  up  was 
supposed  to  be  the  only  cure;  but  I  was  willin'  to  bet  my 
roll  that  this  singer  was  n't  a  rustler.  The  feller  in  charge  o' 
the  posse  was  an  evil-lookin'  cuss,  an'  if  he  'd  'a'  had  the 
rope  around  his  neck,  it  would  n't  have  looked  so  misplaced. 
He  was  ridin'  a  Cross  brand  hoss;  so  I  guessed  him  to 
belong  to  the  Tyrrel  Jones  outfit.  Most  o'  the  others  in 
the  posse  was  ridin'  the  same  brand  o'  hosses  an'  wearin' 


We  found  the  singer  on  foot  with  a  noose  about  his  neck  an'  nine 
rather  tough-lookin'  citizens  holdin'  a  parley  with  him 

See  page  6 


THE    MEETING  7 

the  same  brand  of  expressions.  It  was  a  tough-lookin' 
bunch. 

We  came  up  to  'em  an'  they  looked  our  ponies  an'  us  over 
an'  nodded.  We  nodded  back  an'  I  asked  'em  what  seemed 
to  be  the  trouble. 

"  We  've  finally  got  the  feller  who  has  been  doin'  the 
rustlin'  out  this  way,"  sez  the  leader,  whose  name  was  Flan- 
nigan,  Badger-face  Flannigan. 

"  That 's  good,"  sez  I ;  "  but  he  don't  look  the  part." 

"  He  acts  it  all  right,"  growls  Badger-face,  showin'  his 
fangs  in  what  was  meant  for  a  grin.  "  He  's  ridin'  one  of 
our  bosses,  an'  leadin'  a  string  o'  D  lazy  Ls." 

"  Leadin'  'em  ?  "  sez  I. 

"  Yes,  he  's  got  some  sort  of  a  charm  in  his  voice.  Whis- 
kers, here,  saw  him  go  up  on  foot  an'  rope  this  colt  an'  lead 
him  off  the  same  as  a  plow  hoss." 

"  Did  Whiskers,  here,  see  him  charm  the  loose  string, 
too?"  I  asked. 

"  No,  he  came  in  an'  collected  the  posse,  an'  we  decided 
that  this  would  be  a  good  place  to  try  him ;  so  we  cut  up  the 
other  pass  an'  waited  for  him.  When  he  came  up,  this  bunch 
o'  ponies  was  taggin'  after  him." 

I  looked  at  the  man  with  the  noose  about  his  neck,  an'  he 
was  grinnin'  as  easy  an'  comfortable  as  I  ever  saw  a  man 
grin  in  my  life.  He  was  wearin'  a  vest  without  buttons  an' 
a  gray  flannel  shirt.  He  had  a  rifle  on  his  saddle  an'  a  six- 
shooter  on  his  right  hip.  He  had  big  gray  eyes  set  wide 
apart  under  heavy  brows,  an'  they  were  dancin'  with  laughter. 
I  grinned  into  'em  without  intendin'  to,  an'  sez :  "  Well,  I 
don't  really  think  he  charmed  these  loose  ponies  intentional. 
Me  an'  Spider  was  takin'  'em  in  to  the  Diamond  Dot  an'  we 
had  a  hard  time  makin'  'em  ford  the  crick.  I  'm  some  thank- 
ful to  him  for  tollin'  'em  up  the  pass." 


8  FRIAR   TUCK 

Badger-face  scowled.  "  Well,  anyhow,  he  charmed  the 
beast  he  's  ridin,  all  right ;  an'  he  has  to  swing  for  it." 

"  Are  you  all  done  with  tryin'  him,"  sez  I. 

"  What 's  the  use  of  a  trial  ?  "  snarled  Badger-face.  "  Ain't 
he  ridin'  a  Cross  brand  hoss,  ain't  the  brand  unvented,  don't 
every  one  know  that  we  never  sell  a  hoss  without  ventin'  the 
brand,  an'  can't  any  one  see  'at  this  hoss  was  never  rode 
before?" 

"  Got  anything  to  say  for  yourself,  stranger  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Not  much,"  sez  the  prisoner.  "  I  have  an  appointment  to 
keep  at  Laramie;  my  hoss  gave  out;  so  I  just  caught  a 
fresh  one  an'  started  on." 

"  What  more  do  you  want  ?  "  asked  Badger-face  of  me. 

"  Well,  now,  the'  ain't  any  particular  hurry ;  an'  I  'm  kind 
o'  curious  to  learn  a  little  more  of  his  methods,"  sez  I  im- 
partial. "  Don't  ya  know  'at  this  is  what  they  call  hoss- 
stealin'  out  this  way  ?  "  I  asked  of  the  stranger. 

"  No,  this  is  not  stealin',"  he  replied.  "  I  turned  another 
hoss  loose  that  I  had  picked  up  a  hundred  miles  or  so  farther 
back ;  and  I  should  have  turned  this  one  adrift  as  soon  as 
he  had  tired.  They  allus  wander  back  to  their  own  range." 

This  was  n't  no  unheard-of  custom  to  practice  out  our  way ; 
but  it  was  a  new  sort  o'  defence  for  a  man  with  a  noose  about 
his  neck  to  put  up,  an'  I  see  that  some  o'  the  others  was 
gettin'  interested.  The  big  man  had  a  smile  like  a  boy,  an' 
steady  eyes,  an'  a  clear  skin;  an'  he  didn't  look  at  all  the 
kind  of  a  man  to  really  need  stretchin'. 

"  What 's  your  plan  for  earnin'  a  livin'  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  I  am  a  kind  of  apostle,"  sez  he,  "  an'  I  live  on  the  bounty 
of  others." 

"  Do  you  mean  'at  you  're  a  preacher  ?  "  asked  Badger-face. 

"  Yes,"  the  stranger  replied  with  a  smile. 


THE    MEETING  9 

"  Well,  I  never  see  a  preacher  with  as  short  hair  as  yours, 
nor  one  who  carried  so  much  artillery,  nor  one  who  made  a 
practice  o'  pickin'  up  a  fresh  hoss  whenever  he  felt  like  it. 
Where  'd  you  learn  to  ride,  an'  where  'd  you  learn  to  rope  ?  " 

"  Eastern  Colorado.  I  lived  there  four  years,  an'  travelled 
on  hossback,"  sez  the  stranger. 

"  I  '11  bet  you  left  there  mighty  sudden,"  sez  Badger-face 
with  an  evil  leer. 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  stranger,  with  a  grin,  "  an'  I  also  left 
on  hossback." 

"  Well,  ya  satisfied  now  ?  "  grunted  Badger-face  to  me. 

Livin'  out  doors  the  way  I  had,  I  naturally  had  a  big  re- 
spect for  brands.  It 's  mighty  comfortin'  to  feel  that  ya  can 
turn  your  stuff  loose  an'  know  that  it 's  not  likely  to  be 
bothered ;  so  I  was  up  something  of  a  stump  about  this  new 
doctrine.  "  Where  'd  you  get  your  commission  from  to  pick 
up  a  hoss  whenever  you  feel  like  it  ?  "  sez  I  to  the  stranger. 

He  had  a  little  leather  sack  hangin'  from  his  saddle  horn, 
an'  he  reached  into  it  an'  fished  out  a  small  book  with  a  soft 
leather  cover.  The  feller  'at  was  holdin'  his  hoss  eyed  him 
mighty  close  for  fear  it  was  some  sort  of  a  gun;  but  the 
stranger  ran  over  the  leaves  with  his  fingers  as  ready  as  a 
man  would  step  into  the  home  corral  an'  rope  his  favorite 
ridin'  pony. 

"  Here 's  my  commission,"  sez  he,  as  self-satisfied  as 
though  he  was  holdin'  a  government  document ;  an'  then  he 
read  aloud  with  that  deep,  mellow  voice  o'  his,  the  story  of 
the  time  the  Lord  was  minded  to  let  himself  out  a  little  an' 
came  into  Jerusalem  in  state.  He  read  it  all,  an'  then  he 
paused,  looked  about,  holdin'  each  man's  eyes  with  his  own 
for  a  second,  an'  then  he  read  once  more  the  part  where  the 
Lord  had  sent  in  a  couple  of  his  hands  after  the  colt  that 


io  FRIAR   TUCK 

no  man  had  ever  backed- before  —  an'  then  he  closed  the  book, 
patted  it  gentle  an'  shoved  it  back  into  the  leather  bag.  I 
looked  around  on  the  posse,  an'  most  of  'em  was  rubbin' 
their  chins,  an'  studyin'.  I  've  noticed  that  while  the  earth 
is  purty  well  cluttered  up  with  pale-blooded  an'  partially  ossi- 
fied Christians,  the's  mighty  few  out  an'  out  atheists  among 
'em. 

"  That  don't  go,"  sez  Badger-face,  after  he  'd  taken  time 
to  pump  up  his  nerve  a  little.  , 

No  one  said  anything  for  a  space,  an'  then  the  stranger 
put  a  little  edge  on  his  voice,  but  spoke  in  a  lower  tone  than 
before :  "  That  does  go,"  he  said.  "  No  matter  what  else 
in  life  may  be  questioned,  no  matter  how  hard  and  fast  a 
title  may  stick,  it  must  crumble  to  dust  when  one  comes  and 
says,  '  The  Lord  hath  need  of  this.'  It  may  be  your  life 
or  it  may  be  your  property  or  it  may  be  the  one  being  you 
love  most  in  all  the  world;  but  when  the  Lord  hath  need, 
your  own  needs  must  fall  away. 

"  Now,  boys,  I  love  the  West,  I  glory  in  the  fact  that  I 
can  lay  something  down  and  go  on  about  my  business  an' 
come  back  a  month  later  and  find  it  just  where  I  left  it;  and 
if  I  was  takin'  these  bosses  to  sell  or  trade  or  use  for  my  own 
selfish  ends,  why,  I  would  n't  have  a  word  to  say  again'  your 
stringin'  me  up.  I  brought  my  own  hoss  into  this  country 
and  when  it  gave  out  I  did  n't  have  time  to  barter  an'  trade 
for  another  one;  so  I  just  caught  one,  and  when  it  grew 
weary,  I  turned  it  adrift.  I  don't  claim  the  bosses  I  ride ;  I 
don't  want  to  own  them ;  I  simply  borrow  them  for  a  while 
because  my  Lord  hath  need  of  them.  I  treat  them  well,  and 
when  they  weary,  send  'em  back  to  their  own  range  with  a 
pat,  and  pick  up  another.  The  next  fellow  who  rides  that 
hoss  will  find  it  a  little  less  trouble  than  if  I  had  n't  used  it, 


THE    MEETING  n 

and  there  's  no  harm  done  at  all.  I-'m  working  with  you, 
I  'm  going  to  make  your  own  work  easier  out  here  by  raisin' 
the  respect  for  brands,  not  by  makin'  property  rights  any 
looser;  and  you  are  goin'  to  work  with  me  —  whether  you 
want  to  or  not.  Now  then,  how  much  longer  are  you  goin' 
to  keep  this  fool  noose  about  my  neck  ?  " 

That  posse  was  n't  easy  minded,  not  by  a  jugful.  This 
stranger  was  speakin'  as  though  he  had  power  an'  authority 
an'  public  opinion  all  on  his  side,  and  they  felt  consid'able  like 
the  tenderfoot  who  'd  roped  the  buffalo  —  they  was  willin'  to 
quit  any  time  he  was. 

The  Cross  brand  boys  were  purty  sullen  an'  moody;  but 
four  o'  the  posse  belonged  to  another  outfit,  an'  they 
could  n't  stand  the  strain.  One  of  'em,  a  grizzled  old 
codger  with  one  lamp  missin',  lifted  the  noose  from  the 
prisoner's  neck,  an'  sez  most  respectful :  "  Parson,  I  'm  an 
old  man.  I  ain't  heard  a  sermon  for  forty  years,  an'  I  'd 
be  right  obliged  to  ya  if  you  'd  make  us  one." 

Badger-face,  he  snorted  scornful;  but  the  rest  of  the 
posse  was  scattered  all  the  way  from  repentance  to  sheep- 
ishness,  an'  the  stranger  he  stepped  to  a  little  rise  an'  he 
certainly  did  speak  us  a  sermon.  First  off,  he  sang  us  St. 
Andrew's  hymn  —  I  got  to  learn  a  good  many  of  his  songs 
after  this,  but  o'  course  at  that  time  I  was  as  shy  on  hymns 
as  the  rest  o'  the  crowd. 

I  tell  you  it  was  wonderful  up  in  that  little  park,  with 
the  lush  grass  for  a  carpet,  the  spruce  trees  for  panelin', 
the  bare  peaks  stickin'  out  for  rafter-beams,  the  blue  sky 
above  for  ceiling,  and  that  soft,  deep  voice  fillin'  the  whole 
place  an'  yet  stealin'  into  a  feller's  heart  as  easy  an'  gentle 
as  a  woman's  whisper.  He  sort  o'  beat  time  as  though 
playin'  on  an  instrument,  until  before  he  was  through 


12  FRIAR   TUCK 

we  were  all  hummin'  in  time  with  him  —  an'  then  he 
preached. 

He  told  us  about  the  fisher  folks  an'  how  they  lived  out 
doors  under  the  stars  the  same  as  we  did;  and  that  this 
was  probably  why  the  Lord  had  chose  'em  first  to  follow 
him.  He  said  that  city  folks  got  to  relyin'  on  themselves  so 
much  'at  they  was  likely  to  forget  that  the  whole  earth  was 
still  held  in  the  hollow  of  the  hand  which  had  created  it; 
but  that  men  who  lived  with  nature,  out  under  the  sun  and 
the  stars,  through  the  heat  and  the  cold,  the  wind  and  the 
rain,  the  chinook  and  the  blizzard,  felt  the  forces  and  the 
mysteries  all  about  them  and  this  kept  'em  in  touch,  even 
when  they  did  n't  know  it  themselves,  with  the  great  cen- 
tral Intelligence  back  o'  these  forces  and  mysteries.  Then 
he  told  'em  how  grand  their  lives  might  be  if  they  would 
only  give  up  their  nasty  little  habits  of  thought,  and  learn 
to  think  broad  and  free  and  deep,  the  same  as  they 
breathed. 

He  told  'em  'at  their  minds  could  breathe  the  inspiration 
of  God  as  easy  as  their  lungs  could  breathe  the  pure  air  o' 
the  mountains,  if  they  'd  only  form  the  habit.  Then  he 
talked  to  'em  friendly  an'  confidential  about  their  natural 
devilment.  He  did  n't  talk  like  a  saint  speakin'  out  through 
a  crack  in  the  gates  o'  Paradise,  like  most  preachers  do.  He 
called  the  turn  on  the  actual  way  they  cut  up  when  they 
went  to  town,  and  just  how  it  hurt  'em  body  an'  soul;  and 
his  face  grew  set  and  earnest,  and  his  eyes  blazed;  and 
then  he  said  a  few  words  about  mothers  an'  children  and 
such,  and  wound  up  with  a  short  prayer. 

Well  two  o'  those  fellers  owned  up  right  out  in  public 
and  said  that  from  that  on  they  was  goin'  to  lead  a  decent 
sort  of  life;  and  one  other  said  'at  he  didn't  have  any 


THE    MEETING  13 

faith  in  himself  any  longer;  but  he  insisted  on  signin'  the 
pledge,  and  said  if  that  worked,  why,  he  'd  go  on  an'  try  the 
rest  of  it. 

The  preacher  shook  hands  with  'em  all  around  —  he  had 
a  grip  'at  would  n't  be  no  disgrace  for  a  silver-tip  —  an' 
then  he  sez  that  if  any  of  'em  has  the  notion  that  bein'  a 
Christian  makes  a  weakling  of  a  man,  why,  he  's  willin'  to 
wrastle  or  box  or  run  a  race  or  shoot  at  a  mark  or  do  any 
other  sort  of  a  stunt  to  show  'at  he  's  in  good  order ;  but 
they  size  him  up  and  take  his  word  for  it. 

"  Now,  boys,"  sez  he,  "  I  hope  we  '11  meet  often.  I  'm 
your  friend,  and  I  want  you  to  use  me  any  time  you  get 
a  chance.  Any  time  or  any  place  that  I  can  serve  one  of 
you,  just  get  me  word  and  I  '11  do  the  best  I  can.  It  don't 
matter  what  sort  o'  trouble  you  get  into,  get  me  word  and 
I  '11  help  —  if  I  can  find  a  way.  And  I  wish  'at  you  'd  speak 
it  around  that  I  'm  hard  on  hosses,  so  that  the  other  fel- 
lows will  understand  when  I  pick  one  up,  and  not  cause 
any  delay.  I  '11  have  to  hurry  along  now.  Good-bye ;  I  'm 
sorry  I  've  been  a  bother  to  ya." 

He  swung  up  on  the  big  roan,  waved  his  hand  and 
trotted  out  o'  the  park;  and  just  as  he  went  down  the  pass 
on  the  other  side,  it  seemed  that  he  could  n't  hold  it  in  any 
longer;  so  he  opened  up  his  voice  in  his  marchin'  song 
again,  an'  we  all  stayed  silent  as  long  as  we  could  hear  the 
sound  of  it. 

"  Well  we  are  a  lot  of  soft  marks !  "  sez  Badger-face  at 
last. 

"  That  there  is  a  true  man,"  replied  old  Grizzly,  shakin' 
his  head,  "  an'  I  '11  bet  my  boots  on  it." 

This  seemed  to  be  the  general  verdict,  an'  the  Cross 
brand  fellers  went  off  discussin'  the  parson,  an'  me  an' 


14  FRIAR   TUCK 

Spider  Kelley  collected  our  ponies  an'  went  along  to  the 
ranch,  also  discussin'  him. 

That  was  the  first  time  I  ever  saw  Friar  Tuck;  I  made 
up  my  mind  about  him  just  from  hearin'  his  voice,  an'  be- 
fore I  ever  saw  him;  but  I  never  had  to  make  it  up  any 
different.  New  lead  an'  new  steel  look  consid'able  alike; 
but  the  more  ya  wear  on  lead,  the  sooner  it  wears  out,  while 
the  more  you  wear  on  steel,  the  brighter  it  gets.  The  Friar 
was  steel,  an'  mighty  well  tempered. 


CHAPTER   TWO 
THE  BETTIN'  BARBER  o'  BOGGS 

YES,  this  was  about  the  time  I  got  interested  in  the  bettin' 
barber  over  at  Boggs.  He  has  n't  anything  to  do  with  this 
story  I  'm  about  to  tell  ya,  except  that  it  was  him  'at  give 
the  Friar  his  name;  so  I'll  just  skim  through  this  part  as 
hasty  as  possible.  When  a  feller  is  tellin'  me  a  story,  I 
want  him  to  stick  to  the  trail  of  it ;  but  it  seems  like  when 
I  try  to  tell  one,  myself,  some  feller  is  allus  askin'  me  a 
question  'at  takes  me  clear  out  o'  range. 

All  barbers  are  more  or  less  different,  except  in  what 
might  be  called  the  gift  o'  gab.  This  one  came  out  to  Boggs 
station,  an'  started  a  shop.  His  name  was  Eugene,  an'  he 
was  a  little  man  with  two  rollin'  curls  to  his  front  hair, 
which  he  wore  short  behind.  A  curious  thing  about  little 
men  is,  that  they  don't  never  find  it  out.  A  little  man  pro- 
duces more  opinions  'n  airy  other  kind,  an'  being  small, 
they  haven't  no  place  to  store  'em  up  until  they  get  time 
to  ripen.  A  little  man  gives  out  his  opinion  an'  then  looks 
savage  —  just  as  if  he  'd  get  a  switch  an'  make  ya  believe 
it,  whether  you  wanted  to  or  not. 

Eugene  had  come  from  every  city  the'  is  in  the  world, 
an'  he  used  to  tell  scandlous  tales  about  the  prominent 
people  who  lived  in  'em  whose  hair  he  had  cut.  He  was 
also  familiar  with  the  other  things  which  had  happened 
since  they  've  begun  to  write  history,  an'  if  any  one  would 
doubt  one  of  his  statements,  he'd  whirl  about  holding  up 


16  FRIAR   TUCK 

his  razor,  an'  say :  "  I  '11  bet  ya  a  dollar  I  can  prove 
it." 

All  of  us  fellers  used  to  go  in  as  often  as  we  got  a  chance 
to  get  our  chins  shaved  an'  our  hair  shampooed  —  just  to 
hear  Eugene  get  indignant  about  things  which  was  n't  none 
of  our  business.  We  used  to  bet  with  him  a  lot,  just  for 
the  fun  o'  makin'  him  prove  up  things;  which  he  did  by 
writin'  letters  to  somebody  an'  gettin'  back  the  answers  he 
wanted.  We  did  n't  have  any  way  to  prove  our  side ;  so 
Eugene  got  the  money  an'  we  had  the  fun. 

Ol'  man  Dort  ran  the  general  store  and  kept  a  pet  squirrel 
in  a  whirlabout  cage,  which  was  the  biggest  squirrel  I  ever 
see,  an'  had  its  tail  gnawed  off  by  a  rat,  or  something,  be- 
fore Eugene  came.  Ol'  man  Dort  had  a  reputation  for 
arguin',  which  spread  all  over  our  part  of  the  earth.  We 
had  made  a  habit  o'  goin'  to  him  to  get  our  discussions 
settled  an'  when  we  began  to  pass  him  up  for  Eugene,  he 
foamed  about  it  free  an'  frank. 

He  wore  a  prodigious  tangle  o'  hair  and  a  bunch  o'  griz- 
zled whiskers,  about  as  fine  an'  smooth  as  a  clump  o'  grease- 
wood.  He  used  to  brag  that  razor  nor  scissors  had  n't 
touched  his  hide  for  twenty  years,  an'  one  of  us  boys  would 
allus  add,  "  Nor  soap  nor  water,  neither,"  an'  ol'  man  Dort 
would  grin  proud,  'cause  it  was  a  point  of  honor  with  him. 

Eugene  used  to  send  out  for  his  wearin'  an'  sech,  so  ol' 
man  Dort  did  n't  get  a  whack  at  him  in  his  store ;  ol'  man 
Dort  batched,  an'  Eugene  boarded,  so  they  did  n't  clash 
up  at  their  meals;  an'  finally  ol'  man  Dort  swore  a  big 
oath  that  he  was  goin'  to  be  barbered.  The  news  got  out 
an'  the  boys  came  in  for  forty  miles  to  see  the  fun  —  an' 
it  was  worth  it. 

We  went  early  to  the  shop  an'  planted  ourselves,  lookin' 


THE  BETTIN'  BARBER  O'  BOGGS  17 

solemn  an'  not  sayin'  anything  to  put  Eugene  on  his  guard. 
When  at  last  ol'  man  Dort  hove  in  sight  with  his  brows 
scowled  down  an'  his  jaws  set  under  his  shrubbery,  we  all 
bit  our  lips;  an'  Eugene  stopped  tellin'  us  about  the  hair- 
roots  o'  the  Prince  of  Wales,  an'  stood  lookin'  at  ol'  man 
Dort  with  his  mouth  gapped  wide  open. 

The  ol'  man  came  in,  shut  the  door  careful  behind  him, 
glared  at  Eugene,  as  though  darin'  him  to  do  his  worst,  an' 
said :  "  I  want  my  hair  shamped,  an'  my  whiskers  shaved 
off." 

"  If  you  expected  to  get  it  all  done  in  one  day,  you  should 
ought  to  have  come  earlier,"  sez  Eugene  soberly,  but  tossin' 
us  a  side  wink. 

"  Well,  you  do  as  much  as  you  can  to-day,  an'  we  '11  finish 
up  to-morrow,"  sez  ol'  man  Dort,  not  seein'  the  joke. 

Ol'  man  Dort  peeled  off  his  coat,  rolled  up  his  sleeves, 
an'  climbed  into  the  chair  as  if  he  thought  it  was  liable  to 
buck  him  off.  Then  he  settled  back  with  a  grunt,  an' 
Eugene  tucked  the  bib  in  around  his  neck,  combed  his 
fingers  through  ol'  man  Dort's  hair  a  minute,  an'  sez ;  "  Your 
hair  's  startin'  to  come  out.  You  should  ought  to  use  a 
tonic." 

"  Tonic,  hell !  "  snaps  the  ol'  man.  "  My  hair  sheds  out 
twice  a  year,  same  as  the  rest  o'  the  animals." 

"  Then  you  should  ought  to  comb  it,"  sez  Eugene.  "  I  've 
got  some  hair  here  in  my  hand  which  was  shed  out  two 
years  ago.  Leavin'  dead  hair  an'  such  rubbish  as  that  layin' 
around  on  your  scalp  is  what  kills  the  hair  globules." 

"  It  don't  either ;  it  acts  like  fertilizer,  the  same  as  dead 
grass  does,"  sez  ol'  man  Dort.  He  had  made  up  his  mind 
to  take  the  contrary  side  of  everything  'at  Eugene  said,  an' 
it  was  more  fun  than  a  dog  fight. 


i8  FRIAR   TUCK 

Eugene  started  in  by  mowin'  away  the  whiskers,  an'  it 
was  a  long  an'  painful  job;  'cause  it  was  almost  impossible 
to  tell  where  they  left  off  an'  ol'  man  Dort  began,  an'  then 
they  was  so  cluttered  up  with  grit  an'  dead  hair  and  kin- 
dry  deb-ris  that  his  scissors  would  choke  up  an'  pull,  an' 
then  ol'  man  Dort  would  bob  up  his  head  an'  yell  out  a 
bunch  o'  profanity,  and  Eugene  would  stand  back  an'  say 
that  he  was  a  barber,  not  a  clearer  of  new  ground,  an'  that 
the  job  ought  to  be  done  with  a  scythe  and  hoe,  not  with 
scissors  an'  razor.  Eugene  was  n't  covetous  of  ol'  man 
Dort's  trade  an'  did  n't  care  whether  he  insulted  him  or  not. 

The  most  fun  came,  though,  after  Eugene  had  got  down 
to  where  he  could  tell  the  outline  of  ol'  man  Dort's  face. 
First  he  soaked  it  with  lather,  combin'  it  in  with  a  comb, 
an'  puttin'  hot  towels  on  it  to  draw  out  the  alkalie  grit  an' 
give  his  razors  some  show. 

One  of  ol'  man  Dort's  manias  was,  that  a  man  ought  to 
pay  his  debts,  whether  it  killed  him  or  not;  so  as  soon  as 
Eugene  had  him  steamin'  under  the  towels  we  begun  to  talk 
about  a  man's  first  duty  bein'  toward  his  kin,  an'  that  if  he 
could  n't  pay  his  debts  without  bother,  he  ought  to  let  the 
debts  go  an'  show  his  relatives  a  good  time  while  they  was 
still  on  earth  an'  able  to  enjoy  themselves. 

Ol'  man  Dort  could  n't  stand  it,  an'  tried  to  answer  back 
from  under  the  towels;  but  got  his  mouth  full  o'  suds,  an' 
choked  on  the  corner  of  a  towel  until  Eugene  said  that  if 
he  could  n't  sit  still  an'  behave  himself  he  could  go  out  to 
some  alfalfa  farmer  to  get  his  tonsoral  work  completed. 

It  was  n't  the  ol'  man's  fault  —  he  simply  could  n't  help 
it.  Touch  him  up  on  a  ticklish  subject,  an'  he  just  had  to 
come  back  at  ya,  same  as  a  rattler.  Finally,  however, 
Eugene  had  the  stubble  wore  down  an'  softened  until  he 


THE  BETTIN'  BARBER  O'  BOGGS  19 

decided  that  he  stood  a  chance  again'  it,  an'  then  he  lathered 
an'  rubbed,  an'  lathered  an'  rubbed,  until  nothin'  stuck  out 
below  ol'  man  Dort's  eyes  except  the  peak  of  his  nose;  an' 
then  us  boys  pulled  out  our  trump  card  an'  played  it  strong. 
We  began  to  talk  about  red  squirrels. 

Now,  we  did  n't  know  anything  professional  about  squir- 
rels, except  what  ol'  man  Dort  had  told  us;  but  we  slewed 
his  talk  around  this  way  an'  that  as  if  it  was  our  own  pri- 
vate opinions ;  an'  the  ol'  man  began  to  groan  audible.  He 
gritted  his  teeth,  though,  an'  bore  up  under  it  like  a  hero, 
until  Eugene  begin  to  chip  in  with  what  he  knew  about 
squirrels. 

Eugene  was  never  content  to  just  speak  of  a  thing  in  a 
general  way  —  his  main  method  of  convincin'  us  was  to 
allus  fall  back  on  his  own  personal  experience;  so  this 
time  he  began  to  tell  of  squirrels  what  he  had  been  full 
acquainted  with.  He  called  'em  by  name  an'  told  how  they 
would  run  to  meet  him  an'  climb  up  on  his  shoulders  an' 
chatter  for  nuts,  an'  so  on;  until  the  ol'  man's  ears  turned 
red  with  the  strain  he  was  under.  And  then,  we  got  to  dis- 
cussin'  the  size  o'  squirrels. 

We  told  about  squirrels  we  had  heard  about,  an'  contested 
again'  each  other  to  see  which  had  heard  o'  the  biggest  one ; 
but  we  never  even  mentioned  ol'  man  Dort's  squirrel. 
Eugene  had  shaved  his  way  down  to  below  the  lobe  of  ol' 
man  Dort's  right  ear,  slippin'  in  a  side  remark  to  our  talk 
every  minute  or  so;  an'  purty  soon  he  sez  'at  he  knows  a 
squirrel  by  the  name  o'  Daniel  Webster  back  in  Montpelier, 
Vermont,  which  was  a  full  half  inch  longer  'n  airy  red 
squirrel  we  had  spoke  of.  The  ol'  man  could  n't  stand  this. 
His  head  bobbed  up,  cuttin'  a  gash  on  the  crook  of  his  jaw, 
and  as  soon  as  he  could  blow  the  foam  out  of  his  mouth,  he 


20  FRIAR   TUCK 

sez,  "  I  '11  stake  my  life,  the'  ain't  another  squirrel  in  this 
country  as  big  as  my  own  Ben  Butler." 

Eugene  put  his  hand  on  ol'  man  Dort's  forehead  an' 
pushed  him  back  into  the  headrest.  "  You  lie  there,"  sez  he, 
"  until  I  get  done  shavin'  ya.  Then,  I  '11  bet  ya  a  dollar 
that  I  can  produce  a  livin'  squirrel  which  '11  out-stand,  out- 
weigh, an'  out-fight  your  squirrel  —  an'  I  ain't  never  seen 
your  squirrel." 

"  A  dollar !  "  snorts  the  ol'  man,  flickin'  up  his  head.  "  I 
wouldn't  bother  wakin'  Ben  Butler  up  for  a  measly  dollar. 
I  '11  bet  ya  ten  dollars." 

"  Get  back  on  that  headrest,"  orders  Eugene.  "  Ten  dol- 
lars looks  a  heap  sight  better  to  me  than  one,  an'  I  '11  be 
mighty  glad  to  accommodate  ya." 

Eugene  took  his  fire-stick  an'  burned  the  ol'  man's  cut, 
an'  the  ol'  man  had  to  scruge  up  his  shoulders  with  the  pain 
of  it;  but  he  did  it  without  noticin',  'cause  his  mind  was 
on  squirrels.  "  What  breed  o'  squirrels  is  yours  ? "  he 
asked. 

"  If  you  don't  keep  your  head  where  I  put  it,  I  '11  throw 
up  the  job  an'  let  you  go  forth  lookin'  like  the  lost  Goog  o' 
Mayhan,"  sez  Eugene,  raisin'  his  voice.  Ol'  man  Dort  was 
a  whalin'  big  man,  an'  it  tickled  us  a  heap  to  see  little  Eugene 
givin'  him  directions,  like  as  if  he  was  nothin'  but  a  pup 
dog. 

Ol'  man  Dort  settled  back  with  a  sigh,  an'  Eugene  leath- 
ered up  his  razor  without  sayin'  anything  for  a  minute  or 
two.  Then  he  sez,  as  he  begins  shavin'  again :  "  That 
squirrel  I  have  in  mind  for  ring  contests  is  the  short-tailed 
grizzly  ground-squirrel ;  and  it 's  the  biggest  breed  of 
squirrels  the'  is." 

"  The'  ain't  no  such  a  breed  of  squirrel  as  that !  "  yells  ol' 


THE  BETTIN'  BARBER  O'  BOGGS  21 

man  Dort,  springing  erect  in  his  chair,  an'  dullin'  Eugene's 
razor  by  the  operation. 

Eugene  stepped  back  an'  looked  at  the  blood  flowin'  from 
the  fresh  cut,  an'  he  sez  slow  an'  sarcastic ;  "  If  it  don't 
make  any  difference  to  you  whether  you  have  any  skin  on 
your  face  or  not,  why  I  '11  just  peel  it  off  an'  tack  it  on  a 
board  to  shave  it ;  but  hanged  if  I  'm  goin'  to  duck  around 
tryin'  to  shave  you  on  the  jump.  The'  is  too  grizzly  ground- 
squirrels." 

Well,  that 's  the  way  they  had  it  back  and  forth :  every 
time  they  would  settle  down  to  business  an'  Eugene  would 
get  a  square  inch  o'  the  ol'  man's  face  cleared  up,  one  of  us 
boys  would  speak  something  in  a  low  tone  about  there  bein' 
rumors  of  an  uncommon  big  squirrel  out  at  some  ranch 
house  a  hundred  miles  or  so  from  there,  Eugene  would  ask 
what  breed  of  squirrel  it  was,  an'  then  decide  that  it  could  n't 
be  a  patchin'  on  a  genuwine  short-tailed  grizzly  ground- 
squirrel,  an'  then  ol'  man  Dort  could  n't  stand  it  no  longer 
an'  he  would  forget  what  he  was  doin',  bob  up  in  his  chair, 
an'  lose  some  more  of  his  life  fluid. 

Eugene  scraped  down  both  sides  o'  the  ol'  man's  face, 
givin'  all  of  his  razors  a  chance  to  take  part  in  the  job,  an' 
then  he  set  his  lips  an'  started  in  on  the  chin. 

"  What  does  short-tailed  grizzly  ground-squirrels  eat, 
Eugene?"  asked  Spider  Kelley,  as  innocent  as  an  infant 
pigeon. 

"  They  eat  chickens,  —  "  began  Eugene,  but  ol'  man  Dort 
flew  clean  out  o'  the  chair  an'  stood  over  Eugene  shakin' 
with  rage. 

"  Chickens  ?  "  he  roars.  "  Chickens !  The'  never  was  a 
squirrel  foaled  into  this  world  what  et  chickens." 

Eugene  looked  at  ol'  man  Dort,  an'  then  he  wiped  his 


22  FRIAR  TUCK 

razor  an'  sat  down  on  a  chair,  so  full  of  disgust  that  he 
could  hardly  breathe. 

"  I  wish  you  'd  take  off  that  apron  an'  bleed  into  the 
spittoon,"  he  said  as  calm  as  he  could.  "  I  've  got  customers 
whose  patronage  is  what  makes  up  my  living  expenses ;  an' 
I  don't  want  'em  to  come  in  here  an'  see  the  whole  place  a 
welter  of  gore. 

"What  do  you  think  this  shop  is,  anyway?"  yelled 
Eugene  springing  to  his  feet  an'  entirely  losin'  his  pa- 
tience. "  Do  you  think  that  I  make  my  livin'  by  grubbin' 
down  wire  grass  which  has  been  let  grow  for  fifty  years, 
an'  educatin,  ignoramuses  in  the  knowledge  of  squirrels? 
I  don't  care  whether  you  believe  in  short-tailed  grizzly 
ground-squirrels  or  not;  but  if  you  don't  let  me  tie  your 
head  down  to  that  chair,  I  won't  shave  another  sprout  off 
your  chin.  I  take  some  pride  in  my  profession,  an'  I  don't 
intend  to  have  no  man  go  out  o'  my  shop  leavin'  a  trail  o' 
blood  which  will  draw  all  the  dogs  for  miles  around.  Now, 
you  can  take  your  choice." 

Ol'  man  Dort  had  to  give  in  that  this  was  reasonable 
enough ;  so  he  climbed  back  into  the  chair,  an'  Eugene  tied 
down  his  head  an'  finished  him  off  without  any  more  trouble. 
As  soon  as  he  had  stopped  the  bleedin'  an'  put  on  the  per- 
fume an'  oil  an'  powder,  he  sez :  "  Now,  what  I  am  goin'  to 
do  is  to  get  some  nourishment  to  recuperate  back  my 
strength,  an'  if  you  want  the  waste  products  washed  out  o' 
your  hair,  you  come  back  here  at  one  o'clock  prompt." 

"  I  want  to  settle  on  that  bet  first,"  said  ol'  man  Dort,  who 
was  just  as  pernicious  as  Eugene,  once  you  got  him  riled  up. 

"  I  '11  make  that  bet  with  you  after  dinner,"  sez  Eugene, 
"  but  first  off  I  got  to  have  food ;  I  'm  faint  with  weakness. 
Now,  I  'm  goin'  to  lock  up  my  shop." 


THE  BETTIN'  BARBER  O'  BOGGS  23 

After  Eugene  had  marched  off  to  his  boardin'  house,  we 
all  gathered  around  ol'  man  Dort,  an'  complimented  him  on 
his  improved  appearance,  though  to  be  strictly  honest,  the' 
was  considerable  doubts  about  it.  He  had  two  teeth  out  in 
front,  an'  the  tobacco  habit;  and  now,  with  no  shrubbery 
to  catch  the  spray,  he  spluttered  terrible  when  he  tried  to 
talk  fast.  He  said,  though,  that  as  long  as  he  had  started 
in  he  intended  to  take  the  full  course,  an'  was  comin'  back, 
as  soon  as  he  'd  had  a  bite  to  eat,  to  get  his  hair  laundried  an' 
trimmed  up  some  around  the  edges ;  an'  then  he  was  goin' 
to  make  that  bet  about  the  squirrels. 

It  was  some  amusin'  to  see  the  ol'  man  get  his  hair  sluiced 
out,  but  not  near  as  much  fun  as  seein'  him  shaved.  When- 
ever Eugene  found  any  stray  product,  he  'd  call  us  all  over 
an'  show  it  to  us,  an'  this  riled  the  ol'  man  up  consider- 
able ;  but  the  best  joke  was  when  Eugene  found  a  woman's 
hairpin. 

The  ol'  man  vowed  an'  declared  an'  carried  on  somethin' 
fierce;  but  there  was  the  hairpin,  an'  we  made  him  pay  for 
three  rounds  on  the  strength  of  it.  As  soon  as  Eugene  was 
all  through,  the  ol'  man  settled  the  bill,  payin'  for  a  full  day's 
work  like  a  regular  sport,  an'  not  tryin'  to  beg  off  at  the 
ordinary  retail  price;  and  then  he  hardened  his  face  an' 
sez :  "  Now  I  bet  you  ten  dollars,  that  you  can't  bring  for- 
ward a  squirrel  as  big  as  my  Ben  Butler." 

"  I  '11  take  that  bet,"  sez  Eugene,  "  but  you  got  to  give  me 
time  to  locate  a  short-tailed  grizzly.  It 's  the  scarcest  breed 
the'  is,  an'  it  '11  probably  cost  me  twice  the  sum  to  get  one, 
but  I  don't  care  about  that.  What  I  want  is  to  vindicate 
myself.  I  'd  like  to  see  that  squirrel  o'  yours." 

"  You  come  right  along,"  sez  ol'  man  Dort,  glowin'  with 
pride.  "  I  reckon  when  you  see  him,  you  '11  just  hand  over 


24  FRIAR   TUCK 

the  money  at  once —  That  is,  if  you  know  anything  at  all 
about  squirrels." 

We  all  marched  around  to  the  general  store,  an'  ol'  man 
Dort  pounded  on  the  cage.  When  Ben  Butler  sat  up  an' 
looked  around  to  see  what  was  up,  the  ol'  man  waved  his 
hand  at  him,  looked  down  at  Eugene,  an'  sez :  "  Well  ?  " 
He  said  it  just  like  that :  "  Wu-el  ?  " 

Ben  Butler  was  rollin'  fat,  an'  he  certainly  did  look  like 
some  squirrel  to  us ;  but  Engene  merely  glanced  at  him,  an' 
sez :  "  Hum,  what  we  call  a  dwarf  red  squirrel,  up  in  Nova 
Scotia.  They  have  tails,  though,  up  there." 

The  ol'  man  spluttered  till  we  had  to  pound  him  on  the 
back.  "  Dwarf  ?  "  he  chokes  out.  "  Dwarf !  You  produce 
a  squirrel  to  match  him,  will  ya,  or  else  you  pack  up  your 
truck  an'  move  on.  I  don't  intend  to  have  no  —  " 

"  See  here,  ol'  man,"  sez  Eugene,  pointin'  a  finger  at  him 
the  same  as  if  he  'd  been  a  naughty  child.  "  A  short-tailed 
grizzly  ground-squirrel  is  from  two  to  four  times  as  big  as 
this  one,  so  if  you  want  to  sidestep  the  bet,  you  can  do  it; 
but  if  you  want  to  have  some  show  for  your  money,  I  bet 
you  fifty  to  ten  that  I  can  get  a  squirrel  three  times  as  big 
as  this  one.  I  own  up  that  for  its  kind,  this  squirrel  is  of 
fair,  average  growth ;  but  —  " 

"I'll  take  that  bet!"  yelled  the  old  man.  "We'll  put 
up  our  money  with  Ike  Spargle  this  minute;  but  I  don't 
want  your  odds.  I  '11  bet  you  even  money." 

Eugene  shook  his  head  as  if  he  pitied  the  ol'  man,  an' 
he  sez,  "  Have  n't  you  never  travelled  none,  or  seen  a  zoo- 
iogical  garden  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  've  travelled  some,  an'  I  've  seen  all  kinds  o'  gar- 
dens," flares  back  the  ol'  man ;  "  but  what  I  want  now  is  to 
fix  up  this  bet." 


THE  BETTIN'  BARBER  O'  BOGGS  25 

"  Who  '11  be  the  judges  ?  "  sez  Eugene. 

"  I  don't  care  a  snap.  Any  man  who  can  see  through  the 
holes  in  a  ladder  '11  be  able  to  decide  between  the  claims  o' 
two  squirrels.  Ike  Spargle  an'  Bill  Thompson  can  be  the 
judges." 

"  There  has  to  be  three,"  sez  Eugene.  "  We  '11  have  Dan 
Stedman  be  the  other." 

So  they  put  up  the  money  an'  Eugene  was  to  have  six 
weeks  to  get  his  squirrel;  an'  from  that  on  we  begun  to 
divide  up  into  rival  camps.  The'  wasn't  any  tree  squirrels 
out  in  that  neck  o'  the  woods,  an'  we  had  all  forgot  what 
wild  squirrels  really  was  like.  We  knew  the'  was  ground- 
squirrels,  red  squirrels,  gray  squirrels,  an'  flyin'-squirrels  — 
although  an  argument  was  started  about  there  bein'  flyin'- 
fish  all  right,  but  no  flyin'-squirrels,  which  would  have  ended 
in  warfare  if  Eugene  had  n't  been  handy  to  settle  it. 

You  would  n't  think  that  a  little  thing  like  a  bet  about 
the  size  of  a  squirrel  would  take  the  way  it  did ;  but  Eugene 
was  so  confident  on  his  side,  an'  ol'  man  Dort  was  so  dead 
sure  of  Ben  Butler,  that  the  rest  of  us  split  up  an'  we  each 
had  a  little  side  bet  on  the  outcome.  It  seemed  a  tarnation 
long  time  while  we  was  waitin' ;  but  in  a  little  over  a  month, 
Eugene  got  a  big  box  which  he  took  into  his  back  room  with- 
out lettin'  even  the  fellers  who  had  backed  his  squirrel  get 
a  peep  at  it. 

From  that  on  we  got  shaved  twice  a  day  an'  our  heads 
washed  till  the  hair  started  to  change  color ;  so  that  Eugene's 
trade  was  so  improved  that  even  if  he  lost  the  bet,  he  was 
money  ahead;  but  he  scoffed  the  idy  o'  losin'  the  bet,  even 
after  his  squirrel  arrived ;  and  as  he  was  the  only  man  who 
had  seen  both  the  contestants,  he  had  the  whole  country  up 
in  the  air. 


26  FRIAR   TUCK 

Ol'  man  Dort  had  made  his  squirrel  run  around  the  wheel 
four  hours  a  day,  pokin'  him  up  with  a  stick  when  he  got 
lazy;  an'  this  gave  Ben  Butler  sech  a  prodigious  appetite 
that  the  ol'  man  had  to  set  up  late  at  night  to  give  him  an 
extra  meal.  As  the  day  o'  settlement  came  closer,  the  ol' 
man  tapered  off  on  the  exercise,  an'  doubled  up  on  the  feed, 
until  Ben  Butler  looked  a  full  size  larger,  an'  us  fellers  who 
had  our  money  on  Eugene's  squirrel  began  to  get  shaky.  If 
it  had  been  just  an  even  race,  it  would  have  been  a  fair  deal ; 
but  to  have  to  show  a  squirrel  three  times  larger  than  Ben 
Butler  seemed  an  impossibility. 

Eugene  had  been  fussin'  over  his  entry  too,  an'  we  used 
to  sneak  up  behind  his  shop  at  nights  to  listen  to  him.  We 
could  hear  him  snippin'  with  scissors  and  pullin'  stoppers  out 
o'  bottles  and  when  he  was  through  he  'd  say :  "  Stand  up 
there,  Columbus  "  —  which  was  the  name  of  his  champion, 
an'  then  he  would  seem  to  pass  in  a  bunch  o'  feed,  an'  say  — 
"  Good  boy,  Columbus !  that  dwarf  red  squirrel  can  turn  a 
double  handspring  in  your  shadder." 

This  used  to  hearten  us  up  again,  and  we  'd  lay  a  little 
more  money  on  Eugene's  squirrel.  Ike,  an'  Bill,  an'  Dan  — 
the  judges  —  said  that  they  did  n't  claim  to  know  anything 
about  the  breeds  o'  squirrels,  an'  all  they  was  to  judge  on 
was  the  size,  which  would  be  settled  by  weight  if  the'  was 
any  dispute.  They  got  kind  o'  nervous  toward  the  end, 
'cause  the  fellers  were  all  on  edge,  an'  a  rank  decision  meant 
trouble  in  bunches. 

When  the  final  day  o'  settlement  arrived,  Boggs  was  seven 
deep  with  fellers  on  edge  to  see  the  outcome.  Most  of  us 
had  all  we  could  spare  hung  up  in  bets;  but  the'  was  still 
a  lot  o'  coin  in  the  crowd,  and  a  crew  came  over  from 
Cheyenne  to  take  charge  of  it. 


THE  BETTIN'  BARBER  O'  BOGGS  27 

They  had  a  game  which  certainly  was  attractive,  I  '11  say 
that  much  for  it.  It  was  a  round  board  full  o'  numbers,  and 
up  the  middle  was  a  tower  with  slopin'  sides  covered  with 
nails.  A  marble  was  dropped  into  a  hole  at  the  top  and 
bobbled  on  the  nails  until  it  went  into  a  row  of  holes  at 
the  bottom,  and  came  out  in  a  groove  leadin'  to  one  o'  the 
numbers.  Some  o'  these  numbers  doubled  the  player's 
money,  some  of  'em  paid  it  over  to  the  table;  but  most 
of  'em  was  neutral,  and  a  feller  had  to  double  what  he 
already  had  up,  in  order  to  stand  a  show.  It  was  an  inno- 
cent-appearin'  game,  but  deceptive.  When  a  feller  had  up 
all  he  could  raise,  some  stranger  would  offer  him  two  bits 
for  his  chance,  put  up  the  doublin'  money  —  and  win.  This 
was  a  capper  o'  course;  but  crowds  don't  have  any  sense 
when  they  start  gamblin',  and  this  crew  was  cleanin'  us  out 
until,  all  of  a  sudden,  I  heard  a  clear,  low-toned  voice  say: 
"If  one  o'  you  boys  would  upset  that  table,  you  'd  see  the 
lever  which  controls  the  marble." 

I  glanced  up,  and  there  was  the  Singin'  Parson,  as  cool 
as  a  frozen  fish.  Ol'  Tom  Williams,  commonly  known  as 
"  Tank,"  had  just  lost  six  dollars,  and  he  upset  the  table  and 
saw  just  how  tight  braced  the  blame  game  was.  Then  he 
unlimbered  his  gun,  and  suggested  that  he  would  feel  calmer 
if  he  had  the  six  dollars  back,  and  the  Cheyenne  gambler 
looked  into  Tank's  free  eye,  which  was  pointin'  at  the  ceilin', 
and  he  seconded  Tank's  motion.  After  this  the  rest  o'  the 
boys  collected  what  they  felt  was  due  'em,  and  the  Cheyenne 
crowd  had  to  fall  back  on  charity  for  their  noon  lunch. 

Just  about  one  o'clock,  the  head  crook  saw  the  Singin' 
Parson  standin'  close  to  Eugene's  barber  shop.  The  shop 
was  locked,  and  the  crowd  around  was  lookin'  at  it.  The 
crook  did  n't  want  to  attract  any  attention ;  so,  instead  o'  usin' 


28  FRIAR   TUCK 

a  gun,  he  struck  at  the  Parson  with  a  club.  He  miscalculated, 
and  hit  the  shoulder  instead  o'  the  head.  The  Parson  whirled, 
grabbed  the  club  with  his  left  hand,  and  the  crook's  shirt 
collar  with  his  right.  The  crook  started  to  pull;  but  we 
settled  down  on  him,  and  were  all  ready  to  serve  out  justice, 
when  the  Parson  interrupted  to  say  that  it  was  none  of  our 
business,  and  if  we  'd  just  form  a  ring,  he  'd  settle  it  to  every- 
body's satisfaction.  He  said  he  expected  to  live  among  us 
for  the  rest  of  his  life,  and  this  would  be  a  good  time  to 
introduce  his  methods. 

We  took  off  the  crook's  weapons,  and  then  formed  a  big 
ring.  The  Parson  was  smilin'  a  business-like  smile,  while 
the  crook  was  palin'  up  noticeable.  "  I  am  convinced  that 
a  man  must  settle  some  things,  himself,  in  a  new  country," 
sez  the  Parson.  "  I  am  larger  than  you,  so  it  is  fair  for  you 
to  use  this  club;  but  I  warn  you  in  advance  that  I  under- 
stand how  to  guard  again'  clubs,  so  do  your  best.  I  'm  ready, 
begin." 

It  was  quite  eddifyin'  to  behold :  the  crook  made  a  vicious 
smash  at  the  Parson's  head,  the  Parson  bent  his  arm  at  the 
elbow,  muscle  out,  so  the  bone  would  n't  get  bruised,  stepped 
in,  and  hit  the  crook  a  swing  in  the  short  ribs.  Some  say  it 
lifted  him  ten  feet,  some  say  only  eight ;  but  any  way,  when 
he  lit,  he  gave  a  grunt  like  an  empty  barrel,  and  the  Parson 
had  no  trouble  in  layin'  him  over  his  knee  and  givin'  him 
the  most  liberal  spankin'  with  that  club  I  ever  was  spectator 
to ;  while  the  crowd  howled  itself  hoarse  in  the  throat. 

Now  the  Parson  was  n't  angry,  he  grinned  all  the  way 
through,  and  when  he  had  taken  as  much  exercise  as  he  felt 
was  good  for  him,  he  set  the  crook  on  his  feet,  and  talked 
fatherly  advice  to  him  as  sober  an'  dignified  as  was  possible 
—  considerin'  the  fact  that  the  crook  was  dancin'  about  like 


THE  BETTIN'  BARBER  O'  BOGGS  29 

a  spider  on  a  hot  skillet,  and  rubbin'  the  part  which  had  got 
most  intimate  with  the  club. 

Eugene  had  seen  it  all  through  his  window,  and  when  it 
was  over,  he  came  out  and  shook  the  Parson's  hand,  and 
said  he  was  just  the  kind  needed  in  such  an  ungodly  com- 
munity, and  that  he  reminded  him  for  all  the  world  of  Friar 
Tuck  in  Robin  Hood.  Now,  we  had  n't  none  of  us  heard  of 
Friar  Tuck  up  to  that  time ;  but  it  was  a  name  well  fitted  to 
the  tongue,  and  from  the  way  Eugene  said  it,  we  elected  it 
was  a  compliment;  so  we  gave  it  to  the  Singin'  Parson  on 
the  spot,  and  it  soaked  into  his  bones,  and  he  has  n't  needed 
any  other  since. 

This  little  incident  kept  us  all  in  a  good  humor  until  three 
o'clock,  which  was  the  fatal  hour  for  the  squirrel-contest. 

Then  ol'  man  Dort  marched  to  the  center  o'  the  street, 
carryin'  his  cage  as  though  it  was  full  o'  diamonds ;  an'  Ben 
Butler  sat  up  an'  chattered  as  if  he  was  darin'  the  whole  race 
o'  squirrels  to  bring  forth  his  equal. 

"  I  don't  reckon  a  squirrel  could  get  three  times  as  big  as 
him  without  explodin',"  sez  Spider  Kelley,  who  also  had  his 
money  on  Eugene's  squirrel. 

"  Here  comes  Eugene  with  Columbus,"  sez  I,  not  carin' 
to  waste  breath  on  an  opinion  I  had  backed  up  with  good 
money. 

Eugene  came  down  the  street  carryin'  one  end  of  a  box, 
with  Doc  Forbes  carryin'  the  other.  The  box  was  covered 
with  a  clean  apron,  an'  Eugene  was  n't  lookin'  down  in  the 
mouth  or  discouraged. 

"  From  the  size  o'  that  box,  we  're  goin'  to  have  a  run  for 
our  money,"  sez  Spider.  "  If  Columbus  just  looks  good 
enough  to  make  'em  settle  by  the  scales,  I  have  n't  any  kick 
comin'." 


30  FRIAR   TUCK 

Well,  as  Eugene  drew  closer,  that  crowd  fell  into  a  silence 
until  all  a  body  could  hear  was  Ben  Butler  braggin'  about 
all  the  nuts  he  had  et,  an'  what  a  prodigious  big  squirrel  he 
was;  but  Eugene  never  faltered.  He  walked  up  an'  set  his 
box  down  careful,  motioned  Doc  over  to  the  side  lines,  made 
a  graceful  motion  to  ol'  man  Dort,  an'  sez :  "  As  yours  is 
the  local  champion  you  introduce  him  first,  an'  make  your 
claim." 

Ol'  man  Dort  removed  his  tobacco,  wiped  his  forehead, 
an'  sez :  "  Feller  citizens,  I  make  the  claim  that  Ben  Butler 
is  the  biggest  full-blooded  squirrel  ever  sent  to  enlighten 
the  solitude  of  lonely  humanity.  This  is  him." 

The  ol'  man  looked  lovin'ly  down  at  his  squirrel,  an'  we 
every  one  of  us  gave  a  rousin'  cheer.  It  was  all  the  family 
the  ol'  man  had,  an'  it  meant  more  to  him  'n  a  body  who 
hadn't  never  tried  standin'  his  own  company  months  at  a 
time  could  realize.  Ol'  man  Dort  thrust  some  new  tobacco 
into  his  face,  bit  his  lips,  winked  his  eyes  rapid,  an'  bowed 
to  us,  almost  overcome. 

Then  Eugene  stepped  a  space  to  the  front,  bowed  to  the 
crowd  in  several  directions,  an'  sez :  "  Gentlemen,  an'  feller 
citizens —  From  Iceland's  icy  mountains  to  India's  coral 
strands  an'  Afric's  sunny  fountains,  every  nation  an'  every 
clime  has  produced  some  peculiar  product  o'  nature  which 
lifts  it  above  an'  sets  it  apart  from  all  the  other  localities  of 
the  globe.  When  you  speak  of  the  succulent  banana,  the 
golden  orange,  or  the  prickly  pineapple,  Nova  Scotia  remains 
silent ;  but  when  you  speak  of  varmints,  she  rears  up  on  her 
hind  legs  and  with  a  glad  shout  of  triumph,  she  hands  forth 
the  short-tailed  grizzly  ground-squirrel,  an'  sez,  '  Give  me 
the  blue  ribbons,  the  gold  medals,  an'  the  laurel  crowns  of 
victory.'  I  have  the  rare  pleasure  an'  the  distinctive  honor 


THE  BETTIN'  BARBER  O'  BOGGS  31 

of  presenting  to  your  notice  Columbus,  the  hugest  squirrel 
ever  exhibited  within  the  confines  of  captivity." 

We  was  so  took  by  Eugene's  eloquence  that  we  hardly 
noticed  him  slip  the  apron  from  in  front  of  his  cage;  but 
when  we  did  look,  we  could  hardly  get  our  breath.  I  was 
standin'  close  to  the  Friar;  and  at  first  he  looked  puzzled, 
and  then  his  face  lit  up  with  a  regular  boy's  grin;  but  he 
did  n't  say  a  word. 

Columbus  was  certainly  a  giant;  he  stood  full  two  feet 
tall  as  he  sat  up  an'  scrutinized  around  with  a  bossy  sort  of 
grin.  He  was  dappled  fawn  color  on  the  sides  with  a  curly 
black  streak  down  the  back  an'  sort  o'  chestnut-red  below, 
with  a  short  tail  an'  teeth  like  chisels.  He  won  so  blame  easy 
that  even  us  what  had  bet  on  him  did  n't  cheer. 

Ol'  man  Dort  give  a  grin,  thinkin'  Ben  Butler  must  have 
won,  an'  then  he  stepped  around  an'  looked  into  Eugene's 
cage.  He  looked  first  at  Columbus,  an'  then  at  Ben  Butler, 
then  he  looked  again.  "  That  damned  thing  ain't  alive,"  he 
sez.  "  It 's  made  up  out  o'  wool  yarn.  Poke  it  up  an'  let  me 
see  it  move." 

"  Poke  it  yourself,"  sez  Eugene.  He  was  one  o'  these 
cold-blooded  gamblers  who  ain't  got  one  speck  o'  decent  sen- 
timentality ;  an'  he  was  mad  'cause  we  had  n't  cheered. 

Ol'  man  Dort  took  a  stick  an'  poked  Columbus,  an'  Colum- 
bus give  a  threatenin'  grin,  chattered  savage,  an'  bit  the 
stick  in  two.  "  Give  him  the  money,  Ike,"  sez  ol'  man  Dort. 
"  I  own  up  I  never  was  in  Nova  Scotia,  an'  I  never  supposed 
that  such  squirrels  as  this  grew  on  the  face  o'  the  whole 
earth.  What '11  you  take  for  him?"  he  sez  to  Eugene. 

"  It  ain't  your  fault  that  you  did  n't  know  about  him,"  sez 
Eugene,  thawin'  a  little  humanity  into  himself.  "  I  don't 
want  to  rub  it  in  on  nobody ;  and  I  '11  give  you  this  here. 


32  FRIAR   TUCK 

squirrel  free  gratis,  'cause  I  admit  that  you  know  more  about 
squirrels  'n  anybody  else  what  ever  I  met ;  an'  you  have  the 
biggest  red  squirrel  the'  is  in  the  world." 

Then  we  did  give  Eugene  a  cheer,  an'  everything  loosened 
up,  an'  we  all  crowded  into  Ike  Spargle's  so  that  them  what 
won  could  spend  a  little  money  on  them  what  lost. 

After  a  time,  ol'  man  Dort  got  up  on  a  chair,  an'  sez :  "  I 
want  you  fellers  to  know  that  Columbus  won't  never  be  my 
pet.  Ben  Butler  has  been  the  squarest  squirrel  ever  was,  an' 
he  continues  to  remain  my  pet ;  but  I  '11  study  f  eedin'  this 
condemned  foreign  squirrel,  an'  give  him  a  fair  show;  so 
that  if  any  outsiders  come  around  makin'  brags,  we  will  have 
a  home  squirrel  to  enter  again'  'em  an'  get  their  money." 

Eugene  led  the  cheerin'  this  time,  which  made  Eugene 
solider  than  ever  with  the  boys,  an'  when  Spider  an'  me 
got  ready  to  ride  home,  he  an'  ol'  man  Dort  had  their 
arms  around  each  other  tryin'  to  sing  the  Star  Spangled 
Banner. 

Spider  talked  about  Columbus  most  o'  the  way  home,  but 
I  was  still.  The'  was  somethin'  peculiar  about  the  Friar's 
grin  when  he  first  sighted  Columbus,  and  the'  was  somethin' 
familiar  about  that  squirrel,  an'  I  was  tryin'  to  adjust  myself. 
Just  as  we  swung  to  the  west  on  the  last  turn,  I  sez  to  Spider : 
"  Spider,  I  don't  know  what  I  ought  to  do  about  this  ?  " 

"  About  what  ?  "  sez  Spider. 

"About  this  bet?" 

"  Well,  it  was  a  fair  bet,  was  n't  it  ?  Columbus  is  full 
four  times  as  big  as  Ben  Butler." 

"  Yes,"  sez  I,  "  but  he  ain't  no  squirrel." 

Spider  pulled  up  to  a  stop.  "  Ain't  no  squirrel  ?  "  he  sez. 
"  What  do  you  take  me  for,  did  n't  I  see  him  myself  ?  What 
is  he  then?" 


THE  BETTIN'  BARBER  O'  BOGGS  33 

"  He  's  a  woodchuck,  that 's  what  he  is,"  sez  I.  "  He  's  a 
genuwine  ground  hog  with  his  hair  cut  stylish  and  died  ac- 
cordin'  to  Eugene's  idy  of  high  art.  I  remember  now  that 
I  used  to  see  'em  when  I  was  a  little  shaver  back  on  my  dad's 
farm  in  Indiana." 

Spider  give  a  whoop,  an'  then  he  laughed,  an'  then  he 
sobered  up,  an'  sez :  "  Well,  you  can't  do  nothin'  now,  any- 
way. The  judges  have  decided  it,  ol'  man  Dort  has  give  it 
up,  it  ain't  your  game  nohow,  an'  if  you  was  to  try  to  equal 
back  those  bets  after  they  have  been  paid  an'  mostly  spent, 
you  'd  start  a  heap  o'  blood-spillin' ;  an'  furthermore,  as  far 
as  I  'm  concerned,  I  ain't  right  sure  but  what  a  woodchuck, 
as  you  call  it,  ain't  some  kind  of  a  squirrel.  We  '11  just  let 
this  go  an'  wait  for  a  chance  to  put  something  over  on 
Eugene." 

So  that 's  what  we  made  up  to  do ;  but  this  gives  you  an 
idy  of  how  fine  a  line  the  Friar  drew  on  questions  o'  sport. 
He  knew  'at  we  were  n't  full  fledged  angels,  and  that  we  had 
to  have  our  little  diversities;  but  when  any  professional 
hold-up  men  tried  to  ring  in  a  brace  game  on  us,  he  could  n't 
see  any  joke  in  it,  and  he  upset  the  money-changers'  tables, 
the  same  as  they  was  upset  that  time,  long  ago,  in  the  temple. 


CHAPTER  THREE 

ABOVE  THE  DUST 

I  'M  only  about  twice  as  old  as  I  feel ;  but  I  've  certainly  seen 
a  lot  o'  changes  take  place  out  this  way.  I  can  look  back  to 
the  time  when  what  most  of  us  called  a  town  was  nothin'  but 
a  log  shack  with  a  barrel  of  cheap  whiskey  and  a  mail-bag 
wanderin'  in  once  a  month  or  so,  from  goodness-knows- 
where.  I  've  seen  the  cattle  kings  when  they  set  their  own 
bounds,  made  their  own  laws,  and  cared  as  little  for  govern- 
ment-title as  they  did  for  an  Injun's.  Then,  I  've  seen  the 
sheep  men  creep  in  an  inch  at  a  time  until  they  ate  the  range 
away  from  the  cattle  and  began  to  jump  claims  an'  tyran- 
nize as  free  and  joyous  as  the  cattle  men  had.  Next  came 
the  dry  farmer,  and  he  was  as  comical  as  a  bum  lamb  when 
he  first  hove  into  sight;  but  I  reckon  that  sooner  or  later 
he  '11  be  the  one  to  write  the  final  laws  for  this  section. 

We  're  gettin'  a  good  many  towns  on  our  map  nowadays, 
we  're  puttin'  up  a  lot  o'  hay,  we  're  drinkin'  cow  milk,  and 
we  're  eatin'  garden  truck  in  the  summer.  The  old  West  has 
dried  up  and  blown  away  before  our  very  eyes,  and  a  few  of 
us  old  timers  are  beginnin'  to  feel  like  the  last  o'  the  buffalo. 
The  's  more  money  nowadays  in  boardin'  dudes  'n  the'  is  in 
herdin'  cattle,  an'  that's  the  short  of  a  long,  long  story. 

But  still  we  hammered  out  this  country  from  the  rough, 
and  no  one  can  take  that  away  from  us.  The  flag  follers 
trouble,  an'  business  follers  the  flag,  an'  law  follers  business, 
an'  trouble  follers  the  law ;  but  always  the  first  trouble  was 


ABOVE    THE    DUST  35 

kicked  up  by  boys  who  had  got  so  'at  they  could  n't  digest 
home  cookin'  any  longer  and  just  nachely  had  to  get  out  an' 
tussle  with  nature  an'  the  heathen. 

They  're  a  tough,  careless  lot,  these  young  adventurers ; 
an'  they  're  always  in  a  state  of  panic  lest  the  earth  get  so 
crowded  the'  won't  be  room  enough  to  roll  over  in  bed  with- 
out askin'  permission ;  so  they  kill  each  other  off  as  soon  as 
possible,  and  thus  make  room  for  the  patienter  ones  who 
follow  after.  From  what  I  've  heard  tell  of  history,  this 
has  been  about  the  way  that  the  white  race  has  managed  from 
the  very  beginning. 

As  a  general  rule  it  has  been  purt'  nigh  a  drawn  fight  be- 
tween the  dark-skins  an'  the  wild  animals;  then  the  lads 
who  had  to  have  more  elbow-room  came  along,  and  the  dark- 
skins  and  the  wild  animals  had  to  be  put  onto  reservations 
to  preserve  a  few  speciments  as  curiosities,  while  the  lads 
fussed  among  themselves,  each  one  tryin'  to  settle  down 
peaceable  with  his  dooryard  lappin'  over  the  horizon  in  all 
directions.  Room,  room,  room  —  that  was  their  constant 
cry.  As  soon  as  one  would  get  a  neighbor  within  a  day's 
ride,  he  'd  begin  to  feel  shut  in  an'  smothered. 

Tyrrel  Jones  was  one  o'  the  worst  o'  this  breed.  He  came 
out  at  an  early  date,  climbed  the  highest  peak  he  could  find, 
and  claimed  everything  'at  his  gaze  could  reach  in  every 
direction.  Then  he  invented  the  Cross  brand,  put  it  on  a  few 
cows,  and  made  ready  to  defend  his  rights.  The  Cross  brand 
was  a  simple  one,  just  one  straight  line  crossin'  another;  and 
it  could  be  put  on  in  about  one  second  with  a  ventin'  iron,  or 
anything  else  which  happened  to  be  handy.  Tyrrel  thought 
a  heap  o'  this  brand,  an'  he  did  n't  lose  any  chances  of  puttin' 
it  onto  saleable  property.  His  herd  grew  from  the  very 
beginning. 


36  FRIAR   TUCK 

His  home  ranch  was  something  over  a  hundred  miles  north- 
west o'  the  Diamond  Dot ;  but  I  allus  suspicioned  that  a  lot 
of  our  doggies  had  the  Cross  branded  on  to  'em.  Tyrrel  was 
mighty  particular  in  the  kind  o'  punchers  he  hired.  He  liked 
fellers  who  had  got  into  trouble,  an'  the  deeper  they  was  in, 
the  better  he  liked  'em.  Character  seeks  its  level,  the  same 
as  water;  so  that  Tyrrel  had  no  trouble  in  gettin'  as  many 
o'  the  breed  he  wanted  as  he  had  place  for.  They  did  his 
devilment  free  and  hearty,  and  when  they  had  a  little  spare 
time,  they  used  to  devil  on  their  own  hook  in  a  way  to  shame 
an  Injun. 

The  sayin'  was,  that  a  Cross  brand  puncher  could  digest 
every  sort  o'  beef  in  the  land  except  Cross  brand  beef. 
Tyrrel  used  to  grin  at  this  sayin'  as  though  it  was  a  sort  of 
compliment;  but  some  o'  the  little  fellers  got  purty  bitter 
about  it.  When  a  small  outfit  located  on  a  nice  piece  o' 
water,  it  paid  'em  to  be  well  out  o'  Ty's  neighborhood.  No 
one  ever  had  any  luck  who  got  in  his  road;  but  his  own 
luck  boomed  right  along  year  after  year.  He  allus  kept  more 
men  than  he  needed;  an'  about  once  a  month  he'd  knock 
in  the  head  of  a  barrel  o'  whiskey,  an'  the  tales  they  used 
to  tell  about  these  times  was  enough  to  raise  the  hair.  Ty 
would  work  night  an'  day  to  get  one  of  his  men  out  of  a 
scrape;  but  once  a  man  played  him  false,  he  either  had  to 
move  or  get  buried.  He  was  n't  a  bad  lookin'  man,  except 
that  he  allus  seemed  keyed  up  an'  ready  to  spring. 

His  men  all  had  to  be  top-notch  riders,  because  he  had  n't 
any  use  for  a  gentle  hoss ;  he  did  n't  want  his  hosses  trained, 
he  wanted  'em  busted,  an'  the  cavey  he  'd  send  along  for  a 
round-up  would  be  about  as  gentle  and  reliable  as  a  band 
o'  hungry  wolves.  If  a  man  killed  a  hoss,  why  Ty  seemed 
to  think  it  a  good  joke,  an'  this  was  his  gait  all  the  way 


ABOVE    THE    DUST  37 

along  —  the  rougher  the  men  were,  the  better  they  suited 
him.  He  kept  a  pack  o'  dogs,  and  the  men  were  encouraged 
to  kick  an'  abuse  'em ;  but  if  one  of  'em  petted  a  dog,  he 
was  fired  that  instant  —  or  else  lured  into  a  quarrel.  The' 
did  n't  seem  to  be  one  single  soft  spot  left  in  the  man,  an' 
when  they  got  to  callin'  him  Tyrant  Jones  instead  of  Tyrrel, 
why,  it  suited  him  all  over,  an'  he  used  it  himself  once  in  a 
while. 

The  next  time  I  saw  Friar  Tuck,  he  recognized  me  at  first 
glance,  an'  his  face  lit  up  as  though  we  had  been  out  on  some 
prank  together  an'  was  the  best  pals  in  the  world  ever  since. 
He  wanted  to  know  all  I  knew  about  the  crowd  that  had 
started  to  string  him  up;  and  when  I  had  finished  paintin' 
'em  as  black  as  I  could,  what  did  he  do  but  say  that  he  was 
goin'  up  their  way  to  have  a  talk  with  'em. 

I  told  him  right  out  that  it  was  simply  wastin'  time ;  but 
he  was  set  in  his  ways,  so  I  decided  to  ride  part  way  with 
him.  He  had  two  hosses  along  this  trip,  with  his  bed  an' 
grub  tied  on  the  spare  one ;  and  on  the  second  day  we  reached 
a  little  park  just  as  the  sun  was  setting.  It  was  one  o'  the 
most  beautiful  spots  I  ever  saw,  high  enough  to  get  a  grand 
view  off  to  the  west,  but  all  the  rest  shut  in  like  a  little  room. 
He  jumped  from  his  hoss,  had  his  saddle  off  as  soon  as  I  did, 
and  also  helped  me  with  the  pack.  Then  he  looked  about  the 
place. 

"  What  a  grand  cathedral  this  is,  Happy !  "  he  sez  after  a 
minute. 

I  did  n't  sense  what  he  meant  right  at  first,  and  went  on 
makin'  camp,  until  I  happened  to  notice  his  expression.  He 
was  lookin'  off  to  the  west  with  the  level  rays  of  the  sun  as 
it  sank  down  behind  a  distant  range  full  in  his  face.  The  twi- 
light had  already  fallen  over  the  low  land  and  all  the  hazy 


38  FRIAR    TUCK 

blues  an'  purples  an'  lavenders  seemed  to  be  floatin'  in  a  misty 
sea,  with  here  an'  there  the  black  shadows  of  peaks  stickin' 
out  like  islands.  It  really  was  gorgeous  when  you  stopped 
to  give  time  to  it. 

It  had  been  gruelin'  hot  all  day,  an'  was  just  beginnin'  to 
get  cool  an'  restful,  and  I  was  feelin'  the  jerk  of  my  appetite; 
but  when  I  noticed  his  face  I  forgot  all  about  it.  I  stood  a 
bit  back  of  him,  half  watchin'  him,  an'  half  watchin'  the 
landscape.  Just  as  the  sun  sank,  he  raised  his  hands  and 
chanted,  with  his  great,  soft  voice  booming  out  over  the  hills  : 
"  The  Lord  is  in  His  holy  temple  —  let  all  the  earth  keep 
silence  before  Him." 

He  bent  his  head,  an'  I  bent  mine  —  I  'd  have  done  it  if 
the'd  been  a  knife-point  stickin'  again'  my  chin.  I  tell  you, 
it  was  solemn !  It  grew  dark  in  a  few  moments  an'  the  even- 
ing star  came  out  in  all  her  glory.  It  was  a  still,  clear  night 
without  a  speck  in  the  air,  and  she  was  the  only  star  in  sight ; 
but  she  made  up  for  it,  all  right,  by  throwing  out  spikes  a 
yard  long. 

He  looked  up  at  it  for  a  moment,  and  then  sang  a  simple 
little  hymn  beginnin',  "  Now  the  day  is  over,  night  is  draw- 
ing nigh ;  shadows  of  the  evening  steal  across  the  sky."  It 
did  n't  have  the  ring  to  it  of  most  of  his  songs ;  it  was  just 
close  an'  friendly,  and  filled  a  feller  with  peace.  It  spoke  o' 
the  little  children,  and  those  watchin'  in  pain,  and  the  sailors 
tossin'  on  the  deep  blue  sea,  and  those  who  planned  evil  — 
rounded  'em  all  up  and  bespoke  a  soothin'  night  for  'em; 
and  I  venture  to  say  that  it  did  a  heap  o'  good. 

Then  he  pitched  in  an'  helped  me  get  supper.  This  was  his 
way ;  he  did  n't  wear  a  long  face  and  talk  doleful ;  he  was 
full  o'  life  an'  boilin'  over  with  it  every  minute,  and  he  'd 
turn  his  hand  to  whatever  came  up  an'  joke  an'  be  the  best 


ABOVE    THE    DUST  39 

company  in  the  world ;  but  he  never  got.  far  from  the  Lord ; 
and  when  he  'd  stop  to  worship,  why,  the  whole  world  seemed 
to  stop  and  worship  with  him. 

We  had  a  merry  meal  and  had  started  to  wash  up  the 
dishes  when  he  happened  to  glance  up  again.  He  had  just 
been  tellin'  me  a  droll  story  about  the  first  camp  he  'd  ever 
made,  and  how  he  had  tied  on  his  pack  so  'at  the  hoss 
couldn't  comfortably  use  his  hind  legs  and  had  bucked  all 
his  stuff  into  a  crick,  an'  I  was  still  laughin' ;  but  when  he 
looked  up,  my  gaze  followed  his.  It  was  plumb  dark  by  now, 
an'  that  evening  star  was  fair  bustin'  herself,  and  the  light 
of  it  turned  the  peaks  a  glisteny,  shadowy  silver.  He  raised 
his  hands  again  and  chanted  one  beginning :  "  Praise  the 
Lord,  O  my  soul,  and  all  that  is  within  me,  praise  His  holy 
name." 

The'  was  a  part  in  this  one  which  called  upon  all  the  works 
o'  the  Lord  to  praise  Him,  and  I  glanced  about  to  see  what 
was  happenin'.  A  faint  breeze  had  sprung  up  and  the  spruce 
trees  were  bowin'  over  reverently,  the  ponies  had  raised  their 
heads  and  their  eyes  were  shinin'  soft  and  bright  in  the  fire- 
light as  they  looked  curiously  at  the  singer ;  and  as  I  stood 
there  with  a  greasy  skillet  in  my  hand,  something  inside  of 
me  seemed  to  get  down  on  its  knees,  to  worship  with  the 
other  works  o'  the  Lord. 

It  was  one  o'  those  wonderful  moments  which  seem  to 
brand  themselves  on  a  feller's  memory,  and  I  can  see  it  all 
now,  and  hear  the  Friar's  voice  as  it  floated  away  into  the 
hills  until  it  seemed  to  be  caught  up  by  other  voices  rather 
than  to  die  away. 

Well,  we  sat  up  about  the  fire  a  long  time  that  night.  He 
did  n't  fuss  with  me  about  my  soul,  or  gettin'  saved,  or  such 
things.  I  told  him  the  things  I  did  n't  understand,  and  he 


40  FRIAR   TUCK 

told  me  the  things  he  didn't  understand;  and  I  told  him 
about  some  o'  my  scrapes,  and  he  told  me  about  some  o'  his, 
and  —  well,  I  can't  see  where  it  was  so  different  from  a  lot 
of  other  nights ;  but  I  suppose  I  'd  be  sitting  there  yet  if  he 
had  n't  finally  said  it  was  bedtime. 

He  stood  up  and  looked  at  the  star  again,  and  chanted 
the  one  which  begins :  "  Lord,  now  let  thy  servant  depart 
in  peace  " ;  after  which  he  pulled  off  some  of  his  clothes  and 
crawled  into  the  tarp.  I  crawled  in  beside  him  about  two 
minutes  later;  but  he  was  already  asleep,  while  I  lay  there 
thinkin'  for  the  best  part  of  an  hour. 

Next  mornin'  he  awakened  me  by  singin',  "  Brightest  and 
best  of  the  sons  of  the  morning";  and  after  that  we  got 
breakfast,  and  he  started  on  to  Ty  Jones's  while  I  turned 
back  to  the  Diamond  Dot.  I  did  n't  think  he  ld  be  able  to 
do  much  with  that  gang ;  but  after  the  talk  I  'd  had  with  him 
the  night  before,  I  saw  'at  they  couldn't  do  much  to  him, 
either.  I  had  got  sort  of  a  hint  at  his  scheme  of  life;  and 
there  is  n't  much  you  can  do  to  a  man  who  does  n't  value 
his  flesh  more  'n  the  Friar  did  his. 


CHAPTER   FOUR 

TY  JONES 

TY  stood  in  his  door  as  the  Friar  rode  up,  and  he  recognized 
him  from  the  description  Badger-face  had  turned  in.  Bad- 
ger-face had  been  purty  freely  tongue-handled  for  not  havin' 
lynched  the  Friar,  and  Ty  Jones  was  disposed  to  tilt  his 
welcome  even  farther  back  than  usual;  so  he  set  his  pack 
on  the  Friar.  He  had  six  dogs  at  this  time,  mastiffs  with 
a  wolf-cross  in  'em  which  about  filled  out  his  notion  o'  what 
a  dog  ought  to  be. 

The  Friar  had  noticed  the  dogs,  but  he  did  n't  have  an  idee 
that  any  man  would  set  such  creatures  on  another  man ;  so 
he  had  dismounted  to  get  a  drink  o'  water  from  the  crick, 
it  havin'  been  a  hot  ride.  The  pack  came  surgin'  down  on 
him  while  he  was  lyin'  flat  an'  drinkin'  out  o'  the  crick.  His 
ponies  were  grazin'  close  by,  and  as  soon  as  he  saw  'at  the 
dogs  meant  business,  he  vaulted  into  the  saddle  just  in  time 
to  escape  'em. 

They  leaped  at  him  as  fast  as  they  came  up,  and  he  hit 
'em  with  the  loaded  end  of  his  quirt  as  thorough  as  was  pos- 
sible. He  was  ridin'  a  line  buckskin  with  a  nervous  disposi- 
tion, and  the  pony  kicked  one  or  two  on  his  own  hook; 
but  as  the  Friar  leaned  over  in  puttin'  down  the  fifth,  the 
sixth  jumped  from  the  opposite  side,  got  a  holt  on  his 
arm  just  at  the  shoulder,  an'  upset  him  out  of  the  saddle. 
In  the  fall  the  dog's  grip  was  broke  an'  he  and  the  Friar 
faced  each  other  for  a  moment,  the  Friar  squattin'  on  one 


42  FRIAR   TUCK 

knee  with  his  fists  close  to  his  throat,  the  dog  crouchin'  an' 
snarlin'. 

As  the  dog  sprang,  the  Friar  upper-cut  him  in  the  throat 
with  his  left  hand  and  when  he  straightened  up,  hit  him  over 
the  heart  with  his  right.  He  says  that  a  dog's  heart  is  poorly 
protected.  Anything  'at  did  n't  have  steel  over  it  was  poorly 
protected  when  the  Friar  struck  with  his  right  in  earnest. 
The  dog  was  killed.  One  o'  the  dogs  the  pony  had  kicked 
was  also  killed,  but  the  other  four  was  able  to  get  up  and 
crawl  away. 

The  Friar  shook  himself  and  went  on  to  where  Ty  Jones 
and  a  few  of  his  men  were  standin'.  "  That 's  a  nice  lively 
bunch  o'  dogs  you  have,"  sez  he,  smilin'  as  pleasant  as  usual ; 
"  but  they  need  trainin'." 

"  They  suit  me  all  right,"  growls  Ty,  "  except  that  they  're 
too  blame  clumsy." 

The  Friar  looked  at  him  a  minute,  and  then  said  drily, 
"  Yes,  that 's  what  I  said ;  they  need  trainin'." 

Ty  Jones  scowled :  "  They  don't  get  practice  enough,"  sez 
he.  "  It 's  most  generally  known  that  I  ain't  a-hankerin'  for 
company ;  so  folks  don't  usually  come  here,  unless  they  're 
sure  of  a  welcome." 

"  I  can  well  believe  you,"  said  the  Friar,  laughin',  "  and  I 
hope  the  next  time  I  come  I  '11  be  sure  of  a  welcome." 

"  It 's  not  likely,"  sez  Ty  shortly. 

The  Friar  just  stood  and  looked  at  him  curiously.  He 
did  n't  believe  that  Ty  could  really  mean  it.  The'  was  n't  a 
streak  of  anything  in  his  own  make-up  to  throw  light  on  a 
human  actin'  the  way  'at  Ty  Jones  acted;  so  he  just  stood 
and  examined  him.  Ty  stared  back  with  a  sneer  on  his 
face,  and  I  'm  sorry  I  could  n't  have  been  there  to  see  'em 
eyein'  each  other. 


TY    JONES  43 

"  Do  you  really  mean,"  sez  the  Friar  at  last,  "  that  you 
hate  your  fellow  humans  so,  that  you  'd  drive  a  perfect 
stranger  away  from  your  door  ?  " 

"  I  have  n't  any  use  for  hoss-thieves,"  sez  Ty. 

The  Friar's  face  lighted.  "  Oh,  that 's  all  right,"  sez  he 
in  a  relieved  tone.  "  As  long  as  you  have  a  special  griev- 
ence  again'  me,  why,  it 's  perfectly  natural  for  you  to  act 
up  to  it.  It  would  n't  be  natural  for  most  men  to  act  up  to 
it  in  just  this  way,  but  still  it 's  normal ;  while  for  a  man  to 
set  his  dogs  on  a  total  stranger  would  be  monstrous.  I  'm 
glad  to  know  'at  you  had  some  excuse;  but  as  far  as  hoss- 
stealin'  goes,  that  roan  is  back  with  your  band  again.  I 
saw  him  as  I  came  along." 

Ty  was  somewhat  flabbergasted.  He  was  n't  used  to 
havin'  folks  try  out  his  conduct  and  comment  on  it  right  to 
his  face ;  and  especially  was  he  shocked  to  have  his  morals 
praised  by  a  preacher.  He  knew  'at  such  a  reception  as  had 
just  been  handed  to  the  Friar  would  have  taken  the  starch 
out  o'  most  men  an'  filled  'em  with  a  desire  for  revenge 
ever  after;  but  he  could  see  that  the  Friar  was  not  thinkin' 
of  what  had  been  handed  to  him,  he  was  actually  interested 
in  himself,  Ty  Jones,  and  was  honestly  tryin'  to  see  how  it 
was  possible  for  such  a  condition  to  exist;  and  this  set 
Ty  Jones  back  on  his  haunches  for  true. 

"  For  all  time  to  come,"  he  sez  slow  and  raspy,  "  I  want 
you  to  leave  my  stuff  alone.  If  you  ever  catch  up  and  ride 
one  of  my  bosses  again,  I  '11  get  your  hide ;  and  I  don't 
even  want  you  on  my  land." 

Then  the  Friar  stiffened  up;  any  one  in  the  world,  or 
any  thing,  had  the  right  to  impose  upon  the  Friar  as  a  man ; 
but  when  they  tried  to  interfere  with  what  he  spoke  of  as 
his  callin',  why,  he  swelled  up  noticeable.  The  Friar's  hu- 


44  FRIAR  TUCK 

mility  was  genuine,  all  right;  but  it  was  about  four  times 
stiffer  an'  spikier  than  any  pride  I  've  ever  met  up 
with  yet. 

"  I  shall  not  ride  your  bosses,"  sez  he,  scornful,  "  nor 
shall  I  tread  upon  your  land,  nor  shall  I  breathe  your  air, 
nor  drink  your  water;  but  in  the  future,  as  in  the  past,  I 
shall  use  for  the  Lord  only  those  things  which  belong  to 
the  Lord.  The  things  which  are  the  Lord's  were  His  from 
the  beginning,  the  things  which  you  call  yours  are  merely 
entrusted  to  your  care  for  a  day  or  an  hour  or  a  moment. 
I  do  not  covet  your  paltry  treasures,  I  covet  your  soul  and 
I  intend  to  fight  you  for  it  from  this  day  forward." 

The  Friar  spoke  in  a  low,  earnest  tone;  and  Ty  Jones 
stared  at  him.  Ya  know  how  earnest  an  insane  man  gets? 
Well,  the'  was  something  o'  this  in  the  Friar  when  he  was 
talkin'  business.  You  felt  that  he  believed  that  what  he 
was  sayin'  was  the  truth,  and  you  felt  that  if  it  was  the 
truth,  it  was  mighty  well  worth  heedin',  and  you  also  felt 
that  in  spite  of  its  bein'  so  everlastin'  different  from  the 
usual  view  o'  things,  it  might  actually  be  the  truth  after  all 
and  a  risky  thing  to  pass  up  careless. 

After  waitin'  a  minute  without  gettin'  a  reply,  the  Friar 
turned  on  his  heel  to  walk  away,  stumbled,  and  slipped  to 
the  ground,  and  then  they  noticed  a  pool  of  blood  which  had 
dripped  from  him  as  he  stood.  He  had  forgotten  that  the 
dog  had  torn  him,  an'  the  men  had  looked  into  his  eyes, 
as  men  always  did  when  he  talked,  and  they  had  forgot  it, 
too.  Now,  when  he  fell,  Olaf  the  Swede  stepped  forward  to 
help  him  up. 

Olaf  was  the  best  man  'at  Ty  Jones  had,  from  Ty's  own 
standpoint.  Ty  had  happened  to  be  over  at  Skelty's  one 
night  when  Skelty  was  givin'  a  dance.  Skelty  had  six  girls 


TYJONES  45 

at  this  time,  an'  he  used  to  give  a  dance  about  once  a  week. 
Along  about  midnight,  they  got  to  be  purty  lively  affairs. 
This  night  Skelty  had  bragged  what  a  fine  shot  he  was,  an' 
the  boys  were  kiddin'  him  about  it,  because  Skelty  was  n't 
no  shot  at  all  as  a  rule.  It  was  a  moonlight  night,  and  while 
they  was  sheepin'  Skelty  about  his  shootin',  two  strangers 
rode  up,  tied  their  hosses  to  the  corral,  an'  started  up  the 
path  toward  the  door. 

Skelty  looked  at  'em  an'  sez,  "  Why,  if  I  had  a  mind  to, 
I  could  pick  one  o'  those  fellers  off  with  this  gun  as  easy 
as  I  could  scratch  my  nose."  He  pulled  his  gun  and  held 
it  over  his  shoulder. 

All  the  boys  fair  hooted,  an'  Skelty  dropped  his  gun  an' 
shot  one  o'  the  strangers  dead  in  his  tracks.  The  other 
came  along  on  the  run  with  Skelty  shootin'  at  him  as  fast 
as  he  could  pop;  but  he  only  shot  him  once,  through  the 
leg,  and  he  limped  in  an'  made  for  Skelty  with  his  bare 
hands.  Skelty  hit  him  in  the  forehead,  knocked  him  down 
an'  jumped  on  him.  He  kept  on  beatin'  him  over  the  head 
until  the  stranger  managed  to  get  a  grip  on  his  wrists.  He 
held  one  hand  still,  an'  puttin'  the  other  into  his  mouth,  bit 
off  the  thumb. 

The's  somethin'  about  bein'  bit  on  the  thumb  which  melts 
a  man's  nerve;  and  in  about  five  minutes,  the  stranger  had 
Skelty's  head  between  his  knees,  and  was  makin'  him  eat 
his  own  gun.  It  must  have  been  a  hideous  sight !  Some  say 
that  he  actually  did  make  Skelty  eat  it,  and  some  say  that 
he  only  tore  through  the  throat;  but  anyway,  Skelty 
did  n't  quite  survive  it,  and  Ty  Jones  hired  the  stranger, 
which  was  Olaf  the  Swede. 

Olaf  was  one  o'  those  Swedes  which  seem  a  mite  too  big 
for  their  skins.  The  bones  in  his  head  stuck  out,  his  jaws 


46  FRIAR   TUCK 

stuck  out  prodigious,  his  shoulders  stuck  out,  his  hands 
stuck  out  —  he  fair  loomed  up  and  seemed  to  crowd  the 
landscape,  and  he  was  stouter  'n  a  bull.  When  he  let  himself 
go  he  allus  broke  somethin';  but  he  had  a  soft  streak  in 
him  for  animals,  an'  Ty  never  could  break  him  from  bein' 
gentle  with  hosses,  nor  keep  him  from  pettin'  the  dogs 
once  in  a  while.  Olaf  had  n't  no  more  morals  'n  a  snake  at 
this  time,  an'  when  it  came  to  dealin'  with  humans,  he  suited 
Ty  to  the  minute ;  but  he  just  simply  would  n't  torture  an 
animal,  and  that  was  the  end  of  it.  Olaf  was  n't  a  talkin' 
man;  he  never  used  a  word  where  a  grunt  would  do,  and 
he  was  miserly  about  them ;  but  he  certainly  was  set  in  his 
ways. 

The  Friar  hadn't  fainted,  he  had  just  gone  dizzy;  so 
when  Olaf  gave  him  a  lift  he  got  to  his  feet  and  walked 
to  his  horse.  He  allus  carried  some  liniment  an'  such  in 
his  saddle  bags,  an'  he  pulled  off  his  shirt  and  cleaned  out 
the  wound  and  tied  it  up,  with  Olaf  standin'  by  and  tryin' 
to  help.  Now,  it  made  something  of  a  murmur,  when  the 
Friar  took  off  his  shirt.  In  the  first  place,  the  dog  had 
give  him  an  awful  tear,  and  for  the  rest,  the  Friar  was 
a  wonderful  sight  to  behold.  He  was  as  strong  as  Olaf 
without  bein'  bulgey,  and  his  skin  was  as  white  and  smooth 
as  ivory.  He  was  all  curves  and  tapers  with  medium  small 
hands  and  feet,  and  a  throat  clean  cut  and  shapely  like  the 
throat  of  a  high-bred  mare.  Olaf  looked  at  him,  and 
nodded  his  head  solemnly.  Badger-face  hated  Olaf, 
because  Olaf  had  a  curious  way  of  estimatin'  things  and 
havin'  'em  turn  out  to  be  so,  which  made  Ty  Jones  put 
faith  in  what  Olaf  said,  over  and  above  what  any  one 
else  said. 

As  soon  as  the  Friar  had  finished  tyin'  up  the  wound,  he 


TYJONES  47 

turned  and  walked  up  to  Ty  Jones.  "  Friend,"  he  said, 
"  I  don't  bear  you  a  grain  o'  malice,  and  nothing  you  can 
ever  do  to  me  will  make  me  bear  you  a  grain  o'  malice.  I 
know  a  lot  about  medicine,  and  perhaps  I  can  help  you  that 
way  sometime.  I  want  to  get  a  start  with  you  some  way; 
I  want  to  be  welcome  here,  and  I  wish  'at  you  'd  give  me 
a  chance." 

"  Oh,  hell !  "  sneered  Ty  Jones.  "  Do  you  think  you  can 
soft-soap  me  as  easy  as  you  did  the  boys  ?  You  're  not  wel- 
come here  now,  and  you  never  will  be.  I  've  heard  all  this 
religious  chatter,  and  there  's  nothin'  in  it.  The  world  was 
always  held  by  the  strong,  by  the  men  who  hated  their  ene- 
mies and  stamped  them  out  as  fast  as  they  got  a  chance; 
and  it  always  will  be  held  by  the  strong.  Your  religion  is 
only  for  weaklings  and  hypocrits." 

The  Friar's  face  lighted.  "  Will  you  discuss  these  things 
with  me  ?  "  he  asked.  "  I  shall  not  eat  until  this  scratch  is 
healed,  I  have  my  own  bed  and  will  not  bother  you ;  won't 
you  just  be  decent  enough  to  invite  me  to  camp  here,  give 
me  free  use  of  water,  and  grass  for  my  hosses,  while  you 
and  I  discuss  these  things  fully  ?  " 

"  I  told  you  I  did  n't  want  you  about,  and  I  don't,"  sez 
Ty.  "  The's  nothin'  on  earth  so  useless  as  a  preacher,  and 
I  can't  stand  'em." 

"  Let  me  work  for  you,"  persisted  the  Friar.  "  All  I  ask 
is  a  chance  to  show  'at  I  'm  able  to  do  a  man's  work,  and 
all  the  pay  I  ask  is  a  chance  to  hold  service  here  on  Sun- 
days. If  I  don't  do  my  work  well,  then  you  can  make  me 
the  laughin'  stock  o'  the  country;  but  I  tell  you  right  now 
that  if  you  turn  me  away  without  a  show,  it  will  do  you 
a  lot  more  harm  than  it  will  me." 

Ty  thought  'at  probably  the  Friar  had  got  wind  o'  some 


48  FRIAR   TUCK 

of  his  devilment,  and  was  hintin'  that  his  own  neck  de- 
pended on  his  men  keepin'  faith  with  him;  so  he  stared  at 
the  Friar  to  see  if  it  was  a  threat. 

The  Friar  looked  back  into  his  eyes  with  hope  beamin'  in 
his  own;  but  after  a  time  Ty  Jones  scowled  down  his 
brows  an'  pointed  the  way  'at  the  Friar  had  come.  "  Go," 
sez  he,  stiff  as  ever.  "  The'  ain't  any  room  for  you  on  the 
Cross  brand  range;  and  if  ya  try  anything  underhanded, 
I  '11  hunt  ya  down  and  put  ya  plumb  out  o'  the  way." 

So  the  Friar  he  caught  his  ponies  and  hit  the  back  trail ; 
but  still  it  had  been  purty  much  of  a  drawn  battle,  for  Ty 
Jones's  men  had  used  their  eyes  and  their  ears,  and  they 
had  to  give  in  to  themselves  'at  the  preacher  had  measured 
big  any  way  ya  looked  at  him;  while  their  own  boss  had 
dogged  it  in  the  manger  to  a  higher  degree  'n  even  they 
could  take  glory  in. 

As  the  Friar  rode  away,  he  sagged  in  his  saddle  with  his 
head  bent  over;  and  they  thought  him  faint  from  his 
wound;  but  the  truth  was,  that  he  was  only  a  little  sad  to 
think  'at  he  had  lost.  He  was  human,  the  Friar  was;  he 
used  to  chide  himself  for  presumptin'  to  be  impatient;  but 
at  the  same  time  he  used  to  fidget  like  a  nervous  hoss  when 
things  seemed  to  stick  in  the  sand ;  and  he  did  n't  sing  a 
note  as  long  as  he  was  on  the  Cross  brand  range  —  which 
same  was  an  uncommon  state  for  the  Friar  to  be  in,  him 
generally  marchin'  to  music. 


CHAPTER   FIVE 

THE    HOLD-UP 

THIS  was  the  way  the  Friar  started  out  with  us ;  and  year 
after  year,  this  was  the  way  he  kept  up.  He  was  friendly 
with  every  one,  and  most  every  one  was  friendly  with  him. 
Some  o'  the  boys  got  the  idea  that  he  packed  his  guns  along 
as  a  bluff;  so  they  put  up  a  joke  on  him. 

They  lay  in  wait  for  him  one  night  as  he  was  comin' 
up  the  goose  neck.  I,  myself,  did  n't  rightly  savvy  just 
how  he  did  stand  with  regard  to  the  takin'  of  human  life 
in  self-defence;  but  I  knew  mighty  well  'at  he  wasn't  no 
bluffer,  so  I  did  n't  join  in  with  the  boys,  nor  I  did  n't  warn 
him ;  I  just  scouted  along  on  the  watch  and  got  up  the  hill 
out  o'  range  to  see  what  would  happen. 

He  came  up  the  hill  in  the  twilight,  singin'  one  of  his 
favorite  marchin'  songs.  I  've  heard  it  hundreds  of  times 
since  then,  and  I  've  often  found  myself  singin'  it  softly 
to  myself  when  I  had  a  long,  lonely  ride  to  make.  That 
was  a  curious  thing  about  the  Friar :  he  did  n't  seem 
to  be  tampin'  any  of  his  idees  into  a  feller,  but  first 
thing  the  feller  knew,  he  had  picked  up  some  o'  the 
Friar's  ways;  and,  as  the  Friar  confided  to  me  once,  a 
good  habit  is  as  easy  learned  as  a  bad,  and  twice  as 
comfortin'. 

Well,  he  came  up  the  pass  shufflin'  along  at  a  steady 
Spanish  trot  as  was  usual  with  him  when  not  overly  rushed, 
and  singin' : 


50  FRIAR   TUCK 

"  Guide  me,  O  Thou  great  Jehovah  f 
Pilgrim  through  this  barren  land; 
I  am  weak,  but  Thou  art  mighty; 
Hold  me  with  Thy  powerful  hand." 

He  came  up  out  of  the  pass  with  his  head  thrown  back, 
and  his  boy's  face  shinin'  with  that  radiatin'  joy  I  have  n't 
ever  seen  in  another  face,  exceptin'  it  first  caught  the  re- 
flection from  the  Friar's;  and  the  notion  about  died 
out  o'  the  boys'  minds.  They  were  all  friends  of  his  and 
would  n't  have  hurt  his  f eelin's  for  a  lot ;  but  they  had 
itched  about  his  weapons  for  such  a  spell  that  they  finally 
had  to  have  it  out;  so  when  he  rounded  a  point  o'  rock, 
they  stepped  out  and  told  him  to  put  his  hands  up. 

They  were  masked  and  had  him  covered,  and  his  hands 
shot  up  with  a  jerk;  but  he  didn't  stop  his  singin',  and  his 
voice  did  n't  take  on  a  single  waver.  Fact  was,  it  seemed 
if  possible  a  shade  more  jubilant.  He  had  reached  the 
verse  which  sez: 

"  Feed  me  with  the  heavenly  manna 

In  this  barren  wilderness; 
Be  my  sword  and  shield  and  banner, 
Be  the  Lord  my  Righteousness  "; 

and  as  he  sang  with  his  hands  held  high  above  his  head,  he 
waved  'em  back  and  forth,  playin'  notes  in  the  air  with  his 
fingers,  the  way  he  did  frequent ;  and  it  was  one  o'  the  most 
divertin'  sights  I  ever  saw. 

Those  blame  scamps  had  all  they  could  do  to  keep  from 
hummin'  time  to  his  song;  for  I  swear  to  you  in  earnest 
that  the  Friar  could  play  on  a  man's  heart  the  same  as  if 
it  was  a  fiddle.  He  kept  on  an'  finished  the  last  verse  while 
I  crouched  above  'em  behind  a  big  rock,  and  fairly  hugged 
myself  with  the  joy  of  it.  Ol'  Tank  Williams  was  a  big 
man  and  had  been  chosen  out  to  be  the  leader  an'  do  the 


THE    HOLD-UP  51 

talkin',  but  he  had  n't  the  heart  to  jab  into  the  Friar's  singin' ; 
so  he  waited  until  it  was  all  over.  Then  he  cleared  his 
throat  as  though  settin'  off  a  blast  of  dynamite,  and  growls 
out :  "  Here,  you,  give  us  your  money." 

Ten  six-shooters  were  pointin'  at  the  Friar,  but  I  reckon 
if  he  had  known  it  would  of  exploded  all  of  'em,  he  'd  have 
had  to  laugh.  He  threw  back  his  head  and  his  big  free 
laugh  rolled  out  into  the  hills,  until  I  had  to  gnaw  at  a 
corner  o'  the  stone  to  keep  from  joinin'  in.  "  My  money! " 
sez  he  as  soon  as  he  could  catch  his  breath.  "  Well,  boys, 
boys,  whatever  put  such  a  notion  as  that  into  your  heads. 
Take  it,  take  it,  you  're  welcome  to  it ;  and  if  you  are  able 
to  find  more  than  two  bits,  why,  I  congratulate  you  most 
hearty;  because  two  bits  was  all  I  could  find  this  morning, 
and  that  will  only  be  a  nickle  apiece,  and  five  cents  is  small 
pay  for  robbin'  a  volunteer  missionary." 

Ol'  Tank  Williams  was  a  serious-minded  old  relic,  and 
he  was  feelin'  so  sheepish  just  then  that  it  seemed  to  him 
as  though  the  Friar  had  imposed  on  him  by  lurin'  him  into 
such  a  fix ;  so  he  roars  out  in  earnest :  "If  you  ain't  got 
no  money,  why  the  deuce  do  ya  tote  those  guns  about  with 
ya  all  the  time  ?  " 

"  Would  you  just  as  soon  tie  me  to  a  tree,  or  take  some 
other  measures  of  defence  ?  "  asked  the  Friar  politely.  "  My 
arms  are  gettin'  weary  and  I  could  talk  more  comfortable 
with  'em  hanging'  down." 

"  Aw  put  'em  down,  and  talk  on,"  sez  George  Hendricks. 

"  Thank  you,"  sez  the  Friar.  "  Well,  now,  boys,  the  man 
who  does  n't  take  the  time  to  put  a  value  on  his  own  life, 
is  n't  likely  to  make  that  life  very  much  worth  while.  He 
must  n't  overvalue  it  to  such  an  extent  that  he  becomes  a 
coward,  nor  he  must  n't  undervalue  it  to  such  an  extent  that 


52  FRIAR    TUCK 

he  becomes  reckless  —  he  must  take  full  time  to  estimate 
himself  as  near  as  he  is  able. 

"  I  don't  know  that  I  can  allus  keep  from  judgin'  my 
fellow  men;  but  I  am  sure  that  I  would  not  judge  one  to 
the  extent  of  sayin'  that  my  life  was  worth  more  than  his, 
so  I  should  never  use  a  gun  merely  to  save  my  own  life 
by  takin'  away  the  life  of  another  man  —  much  less  would 
I  use  a  gun  in  defence  of  money;  but  I  am  a  purty  good 
shot,  and  sometimes  I  can  get  a  man  interested  by  shootin' 
at  a  mark  with  him.  This  is  why  I  carry  firearms.  Do 
you  want  the  two  bits  ?  " 

"  Aw,  go  on,"  yells  ol'  Tank,  madder  at  himself  'n  ever. 
"  We  did  n't  intend  to  rob  ya.  All  we  wanted  was  to  hear 
ya  sing  and  preach  a  bit " ;  and  he  pulled  off  his  mask  and 
shook  the  Friar's  hand.  All  the  rest  o'  the  boys  did  the 
same :.  and  I  dumb  up  on  my  rock,  flapped  my  wings,  and 
crowed  like  a  rooster. 

Well,  we  sat  on  the  ground,  and  he  sang  for  us ;  and  then 
he  sobered  and  began  to  talk  about  cussin'.  It  used  to  hurt 
the  Friar  to  hear  some  o'  the  double- jointed  swear  words 
we  used  when  excited.  He  tried  not  to  show  it,  because  he 
didn't  want  anything  to  shut  us  away  from  him  at  any 
time ;  but  whiles  his  face  would  wrinkle  into  lines  of  actual 
pain. 

"  Now,  boys,"  he  began,  "  I  know,  'at  you  don't  mean 
what  you  say  in  a  profane  way.  You  call  each  other  ter- 
rible names,  and  condemn  each  other  to  eternal  punishment ; 
and  if  a  man  said  these  things  in  earnest,  his  life  would  be 
forfeit;  but  you  take  it  merely  as  a  joke.  Now,  I  do  not 
know  just  how  wicked  this  is.  I  know  that  it  is  forbidden 
to  take  the  name  o'  the  Lord  thy  God  in  vain;  so  it  is  a 
dangerous  thing  to  be  profane  even  in  thoughtlessness ;  but 


THE    HOLD-UP  53 

I  have  heard  the  Lord's  name  used  by  the  perfectly  respect- 
able in  a  way  which  must  have  hurt  his  tender  nature 
more. 

"  Once  in  the  crowded  slum  district  of  a  large  eastern  city, 
I  saw  a  freight  car  back  down  on  a  child  and  kill  it.  The 
mother  was  frantic;  she  was  a  foreigner  and  extra  emo- 
tional, and  she  screamed,  and  cursed  the  railroad.  A  man 
had  come  to  comfort  her,  and  he  put  his  hand  on  her  arm 
and  said,  '  My  dear  woman,  you  must  not  carry  on  this 
way.  We  must  always  bow  our  heads  in  submission  to  the 
Lord's  will.' 

"  For  years  the  poor  people  o'  that  neighborhood  had 
begged  protection  for  their  children;  and  I  cannot  believe 
that  it  was  the  Lord's  will  that  even  one  o'  the  least  of  'em 
should  have  been  slain  in  order  to  drive  the  lesson  a  little 
deeper  home;  so,  as  I  said  before,  I  am  not  going  to  talk 
to  you  of  the  wickedness  of  swearing  —  but  I  am  goin' 
to  talk  about  its  foolishness,  its  vulgarity,  and  its  brutality." 

He  went  on  showin'  that  swearin'  was  foolish  because  it 
was  n't  givin'  a  man's  thought  on  things  in  a  man's  way ; 
but  merely  howlin'  it  out  the  way  wolves  and  wild-cats  had 
to,  on  account  o'  their  not  havin'  a  civilized  language  with 
which  to  express  the  devilment  which  was  in  'em.  He 
showed  how  it  made  a  feller  lazy;  because  instead  of 
tryin'  to  sort  out  words  which  would  tell  exactly  what  he 
meant,  he  made  a  lot  of  noises  which  had  no  more  real 
meanin'  than  a  bunch  o'  fire-crackers. 

Then  his  voice  got  low  and  serious,  and  he  said  'at  the 
worst  thing  about  cussin'  was,  that  it  led  a  feller  into 
speakin'  lightly  about  the  sacred  things  of  life.  "  When 
you  speak  the  word  '  son,'  "  he  said,  "  you  are  bound  to  also 
call  up  the  thought  of  '  mother ' ;  and  I  want  to  say  to  you 


54  FRIAR    TUCK 

right  now  that  any  one  who  can  be  coarse  and  nasty  in 
thinkin'  or  speakin'  about  maternity,  is  not  a  man  at  all  — 
or  even  a  decent  brute  —  but  has  some  sort  of  soul-sickness 
which  is  more  horrible  than  insanity.  Always  be  square 
with  women  —  all  women,  good  and  bad.  I  know  your 
temptations,  and  I  know  theirs.  Woman  has  a  heavy  cross 
to  carry,  and  the  least  we  can  do,  is  to  play  fair." 

Then  he  sprang  some  of  his  curious  theories  on  us :  told 
us  how  the  body  was  full  of  poisons  and  remedies;  and  it 
depended  on  our  plan  of  livin',  whether  we  used  the  one 
or  the  other.  He  said  he  allus  cut  out  food  and  tobacco  on 
Fridays,  and  if  he  did  n't  feel  bright  and  clear  and  bubblin' 
over  with  vitality,  he  fasted  until  he  felt  able  to  eat  a  rubber 
boot,  and  then  he  knew  he  had  cleaned  all  the  waist  prod- 
ucts out  of  him,  and  could  live  at  top  speed  again.  He 
finished  up  by  tellin'  of  a  cross  old  doctor  he  once  knew, 
who  used  to  say  'at  cattle  and  kings  did  n't  have  to  control 
themselves;  but  all  ordinary  men  had  to  use  self-denial, 
even  in  matters  of  pleasure. 

It  was  more  the  way  the  Friar  said  things  than  what  he 
said;  his  voice  and  his  eyes  helped  a  lot;  but  the  thing  'at 
counted  for  most  was  the  fact  'at  you  knew  it  wasn't  none 
of  it  put  on.  He  loved  to  joke  when  it  was  a  jokin'  matter; 
but  he  was  stiff  as  stone  with  what  he  called  the  foundations 
of  life.  A  man,  you  know,  as  a  rule,  is  mighty  timid  about 
the  things  which  lie  close  to  his  heart,  no  matter  how  bold 
and  free  he  '11  talk  about  other  things ;  but  the  Friar  was 
like  a  little  child,  an'  he  'd  speak  out  as  bold  and  frank  as 
one,  about  the  things  he  loved  and  hated,  until  he  finally 
put  a  few  drops  o'  this  queer  brand  o'  courage  into  our  own 
hearts. 

Of  course  we  did  n't  get  to  be  troubled  with  wing-growth 


THE    HOLD-UP  55 

or  anything  like  that;  but  a  short  time  after  this  fake 
hold-up,  ol'  Tank  Williams  went  in  to  fill  up  with  picklin'- 
fluid,  and  he  started  in  on  Monday  and  kept  fightin'  it  all 
that  week  until  Friday.  Then  he  said  that  he  would  n't 
neither  eat,  drink,  nor  smoke  on  that  day ;  and  they  could  n't 
make  him  do  it.  He  started  in  on  Saturday  to  continue 
what  had  started  out  to  be  one  o'  the  best  benders  he  had 
ever  took ;  but  the  first  quart  made  him  sick  as  a  dog,  and 
he  came  out  to  the  ranch  and  said  'at  the  Friar  had  made 
him  a  temperate  man,  and  for  the  rest  of  his  life  he  intended 
to  set  aside  one  day  a  week  in  the  Friar's  favor. 

After  the  boys  had  started  for  the  ranch,  the  Friar  invited 
me  to  spend  the  night  with  him;  so  we  unpacked  his  bed 
from  the  lead-hoss  and  we  built  a  little  fire  and  had  a  right 
sociable  time  of  it.  Me  and  him  was  good  pals  by  this 
time.  He  had  said  to  me  once :  "  Happy,  you  do  more  gen- 
eral thinkin'  than  some  varsity  men  I  've  known." 

"  I  reckon,"  sez  I,  modest  as  I  could,  "  that  a  man  who 
has  bossed  a  dozen  men  and  ten  thousand  cattle  through  a 
three  days'  blizzard,  has  to  be  able  to  think  some  like  a 
general." 

Then  he  explained  to  me  that  general  thinkin'  meant  to 
think  about  stars  an'  flowers  an'  the  human  race  an'  the 
past  an'  the  future,  an'  such  things,  and  not  to  be  all  the 
time  lookin'  at  life  just  from  the  way  it  touched  a  feller 
himself.  This  was  another  thing  I  liked  about  him.  Most 
Fasteners  is  so  polite  that  they  have  n't  the  heart  to  set 
a  feller  right  when  he  has  the  wrong  notion;  but  the  Friar 
would  divvy  up  on  his  knowledge  as  free  as  he  would  on 
his  bacon  or  tobacco;  so  I  opened  myself  up  to  him 
until  he  knew  as  much  about  me  as  I  did  myself. 

He  did  n't  have  much  use  for  the  shut-eye  this  night,  nor 


56  FRIAR    TUCK 

he  was  n't  as  talky  as  common ;  so  we  sat  smokin'  and 
lookin'  into  the  fire  for  a  long  time.  Once  in  a  while  he  'd 
speak  a  verse  about  some  big  deed  a  man  had  done  years 
ago,  or  else  one  describin'  the  mountains  or  something  like 
that ;  until  finally  I  asked  him  how  it  came  that  a  man  who 
loved  adventure  an'  fightin'  an'  feats  of  skill,  the  way  he 
did,  had  selected  to  be  a  preacher. 

"  We  don't  select  our  lives,  Happy,"  sez  he.  "  You  're 
surely  philosopher  enough  to  see  that.  As  far  as  we  can 
see,  it  is  like  that  gamblin'  game;  we  roll  down  through  a 
lot  o'  little  pegs  bobbin'  off  from  one  to  another  until  finally 
we  pop  into  a  little  hole  at  the  bottom ;  but  we  did  n't  pick 
out  that  hole.  No,  we  did  n't  pick  out  that  hole." 

So  I  up  and  asked  him  to  tell  me  somethin'  about  his 
start. 


CHAPTER   SIX 

A   REMINISCENCE 

I  PITY  the  man  who  has  never  slept  out  doors  in  the  Rocky 
Mountains.  Swingin'  around  with  the  earth,  away  up  there 
in  the  starlight,  he  fills  himself  full  o'  new  life  with  every 
breath;  and  no  matter  how  tough  the  day  has  been,  he  is 
bound  to  wake  up  the  next  mornin'  plumb  rested,  and  with 
strength  and  energy  fair  dancin'  through  his  veins.  For  it 
to  be  perfect,  a  feller  has  to  have  a  pipe,  a  fire,  and  some 
one  close  and  chummy  to  chat  with.  This  night  me  an'  the 
Friar  both  went  down  to  the  crick  and  washed  our  feet. 
We  sat  on  a  log  side  by  side  and  made  noises  like  a  flock  of 
bewildered  geese  when  we  first  stuck  our  feet  into  the  icy 
water ;  but  by  the  time  we  had  raced  back  and  crawled  into 
his  bed,  we  were  glowin'  all  over. 

We  did  n't  cover  up  right  away,  because  the  Friar  just 
simply  couldn't  seem  to  get  sleepy  that  night;  and  after 
a  minute  he  put  some  more  wood  on  the  fire,  filled  his  pipe 
again,  and  said :  "  So  you  want  me  to  tell  you  about  my 
story,  hu?  Well,  I  believe  I  will  tell  you  about  my 
boyhood." 

So  I  filled  my  pipe,  and  we  lay  half  under  the  tarp  with 
our  heads  on  our  hands  and  our  elbows  on  our  boots,  which 
were  waitin'  to  be  pillows,  and  he  told  me  about  the  early 
days,  talkin'  more  to  himself  than  to  me. 

"  My  mother  died  when  I  was  six  years  old,  my  father 
divided  his  time  between  cleanin'  out  saloons,  beatin'  me, 


58  FRIAR    TUCK 

an'  livin'  in  the  work-house,"  began  the  Friar,  and  it  give 
me  kind  of  a  shock.  I  'd  had  a  notion  that  such-like  kids 
was  n't  likely  to  grow  up  into  preachers ;  and  I  'd  allus  sup- 
posed 'at  the  Friar  had  had  a  soft,  gentle  youth.  "  I  was 
a  tough,  sturdy  urchin,"  he  went  on,  "  but  I  allus  had  a 
soft  heart  for  animals.  I  used  to  fight  several  times  a  day ; 
but  mostly  because  the  other  kids  used  to  stone  cats  and  tie 
tin  cans  on  dogs'  tails.  I  used  to  shine  shoes,  pass  papers, 
run  errands,  and  do  any  other  odd  job  for  a  few  pennies, 
and  at  night  I  slept  wherever  I  could.  I  had  a  big  dry- 
goods-box  all  to  myself  for  several  months,  once,  and  I 
still  look  back  to  it  as  being  a  fine,  comfortable  bedroom. 

"  One  morning  I  was  down  at  the  Union  Depot  when  a 
farmer  drove  up  a  big  Norman  hoss  hitched  to  a  surrey. 
Some  o'  the  other  kids  joshed  him,  called  the  hoss  an  ele- 
phant and  asked  where  the  rest  o'  the  show  was.  The  man 
was  big,  well  fed,  and  comfortable  lookin',  same  as  the 
hoss,  and  he  did  n't  pay  any  heed  to  the  kids  except  to  call 
one  of  'em  up  to  hold  the  hoss  while  he  went  into  the  depot. 
The  kid  wanted  to  know  first  what  he  was  goin'  to  be 
paid,  and  he  haggled  so  long  'at  the  farmer  beckoned  to 
me  to  come  up.  '  Will  you  hold  my  hoss  for  me  a  few 
minutes  ? '  he  asked. 

"  That  big  gray  hoss  with  the  dark,  gentle  eyes  seemed 
to  me  one  of  the  most  beautiful  things  I  had  ever  seen,  and 
I  was  mighty  anxious  to  have  charge  of  him,  even  for  a  few 
minutes ;  so  I  sez,  '  You  bet  I  will.' 

"  The  other  kids  roasted  me  and  made  all  manner  o'  sport ; 
but  they  knew  I  would  fight  'em  if  they  got  too  super-Mucus, 
so  after  a  bit  they  went  on  about  their  business.  The's 
somethin'  about  man's  love  for  a  hoss  that 's  a  little  hard 
to  understand.  I  had  never  had  no  intimate  dealin's  with 


A    REMINISCENCE  59 

one  before,  yet  somethin'  inside  me  reached  out  and  en- 
twined itself  all  about  this  big,  gray,  velvet-nosed  beauty 
left  in  my  charge.  I  reckon  it  must  be  in  a  man's  blood; 
that 's  the  only  explanation  I  can  find.  All  the  way  back 
along  the  trail  o'  history  we  find  the  bones  of  men  and  hosses 
bleachin'  together  in  the  same  heap ;  and  about  every  worth- 
while spot  on  the  face  o'  nature  has  been  fought  over  on 
hossback,  so  it 's  small  wonder  if  the  feel  of  a  hoss  has  got 
to  be  part  of  man's  nature. 

"  The  farmer  had  had  a  woman  and  a  little  girl  in  his 
care,  to  see  off  on  the  train,  and  he  was  gone  some  time.  I 
had  a  few  pennies  in  my  pocket,  and  I  bought  an  apple  an' 
fed  it  to  the  hoss,  gettin'  more  enjoyment  out  of  it  than  out 
of  airy  other  apple  I  'd  ever  owned.  I  can  feel  right  now 
the  strange  movin's  inside  my  breast  as  his  moist  nose 
sniffed  at  my  fingers  and  his  delicate  lips  picked  up  the  bits 
of  apple,  as  careful  an'  gentle  as  though  my  rough,  dirty 
little  hand  had  been  made  o'  crystal. 

"  I  was  so  interested  in  the  hoss  that  I  gave  a  start  of 
surprise  when  the  farmer's  voice  behind  me  sez :  '  You 
seem  to  like  hosses,  son.' 

"  '  I  had  n't  no  idee  'at  a  great  big  one  like  this  could  be 
so  smooth  an'  gentle,'  I  said,  with  my  hand  rubbin'  along 
the  hoss's  throat.  '  I  think  he  's  a  wonder.' 

"  '  Do  you  like  other  animals  ?  '  asked  the  farmer. 

"  '  I  reckon  I  must  be  an  animal  myself,'  sez  I,  '  because 
I  allus  get  along  well  with  them,  while  I  have  to  fight  a 
lot  with  humans.' 

" '  What  do  you  want  for  tendin'  to  this  hoss  ? '  he 
asked  me. 

" '  I  don't  want  nothin','  sez  I.  *  We  've  got  to  be 
friends,  an'  I  don't  charge  nothin'  for  doin'  favors  for  a 


60  FRIAR    TUCK 

friend.  Besides,  he 's  got  so  much  sense,  I  doubt  if  he 
needs  much  watchinV 

"  The  farmer  grinned,  looked  into  my  eyes  a  long  time, 
and  gave  me  a  dollar.  '  Now  tell  me  how  you  '11  spend  your 
dollar,'  sez  he. 

"Well,  I  was  purty  well  floored.  I  had  never  owned  a 
dollar  before  in  my  whole  life,  my  father  havin'  taken  away 
every  cent  he  had  ever  found  on  me;  and  I  stood  lookin' 
at  the  coin,  and  hardly  knowin'  what  to  do.  The  farmer 
stood  lookin'  down  at  me  with  his  eyes  twinklin',  and  after 
a  minute,  I  handed  the  dollar  back  to  him.  '  This  is  too 
much,'  I  sez.  '  A  dime  would  be  plenty  for  the  job,  even 
if  I  did  n't  like  the  hoss ;  but  if  my  old  man  would  find  a 
dollar  on  me,  he  'd  give  me  a  beatin'  for  hidin'  it  from  him, 
take  it  away,  get  drunk,  and  then  give  me  another  beatin' 
for  not  havin'  another  dollar.' 

"  So  he  asked  me  all  about  my  father ;  and  I  told  about 
him  and  about  my  mother  bein'  dead,  and  the  twinkle  left 
his  eyes  and  they  grew  moist,  so  'at  he  had  to  wink  mighty 
fast. 

" '  He  told  me  that  his  own  boy  was  dead  and  his  girl 
married,  and  that  the'  wasn't  any  children  out  at  the  big 
farm,  and  asked  me  if  I  wouldn't  like  to  come  and  live 
with  him.  He  told  me  about  all  the  hosses  an'  the  cows 
an'  the  pigs,  an'  that  I  could  have  a  clean  little  room  to 
sleep  in,  an'  plenty  o'  food  and  clothes,  and  could  go  to 
school.  It  sounded  like  a  fairy  tale  to  me,  and  I  sez,  '  Aw 
go  on,  you're  just  joshin'  me';  but  he  meant  it;  so  I  got 
on  the  seat  beside  him,  and  as  soon  as  we  got  out  o'  town 
he  let  me  drive  the  big  gray  hoss  —  and  I  entered  into  a 
real  world  more  wonderful  than  any  fairy  tale  ever  was. 

"  When  we  drove  up  the  shady  lane  and  into  the  big 


A    REMINISCENCE  6l 

barn  lot,  a  little  old  lady  with  sad  eyes  came  to  the  door, 
and  sez :  '  Now,  John,  who  is  that  with  you  ?  '  and  my  heart 
sank,  for  I  thought  she  was  n't  goin'  to  stand  for  me ;  but 
he  took  me  by  the  hand  and  led  me  up  to  the  door,  put  his 
arm  about  the  little  woman's  shoulder,  and  sez  with  a  tremble 
in  his  voice :  '  This  here  is  a  little  feller  I  've  brought  out  to 
be  company  for  ya,  mother.  He  has  n't  any  folks,  and  he  is 
fond  of  animals,  and,  and  —  his  name  is  John,  too.' 

"  At  first  she  shook  her  head  and  shut  her  lips  tight ;  but 
all  of  a  sudden  the  tears  came  to  her  eyes,  and  she  put  her 
arms  about  me  —  and  I  had  found  a  real  home. 

"  Those  were  wonderful  years,  Happy,  wonderful ;  and 
I  have  the  satisfaction  o'  knowin'  that  I  did  them  about 
as  much  good  as  they  did  me.  Their  hearts  had  been 
wrapped  up  in  the  boy,  and  he  must  have  been  a  fine  feller ; 
but  just  when  he  had  been  promoted  out  o'  the  grammar 
grade  at  the  head  of  his  class,  he  had  took  the  scarlet  fever 
an'  died.  I  was  n't  used  to  kindness  when  I  went  there ;  so 
I  never  noticed  'at  they  kept  me  out  o'  the  inner  circle  o' 
their  hearts  at  first.  I  called  the  little  woman  Mrs.  Car- 
michael  for  some  time ;  but  one  day  after  I  'd  brought  home 
a  good  report  from  school,  I  called  her  this,  and  she  spoke 
to  me  sharp  —  I  never  knew  any  soft-hearted  person  in  the 
world  who  got  so  much  solid  satisfaction  out  of  actin'  cross 
as  she  did.  Well,  she  spoke  to  me  sharp,  and  sez :  '  John 
Carmichael,  why  don't  you  call  me  Mother  ? ' 

"  I  looked  into  her  face,  and  it  did  n't  look  old  any  longer, 
and  the  sad  look  had  left  her  eyes,  and  they  were  black  and 
snappy  an'  full  o'  life;  so  I  tried  it;  and  we  both  broke 
into  tears,  but  they  were  tears  o'  joy ;  and  then  he  insisted 
that  I  call  him  Dad,  and  we  became  a  family ;  and  about  the 
happiest  one  in  the  world,  I  reckon. 


62  FRIAR    TUCK 

"  I  rode  the  bosses  bareback,  shot  hawks  with  my  rifle, 
picked  berries,  did  a  lot  o'  chores,  and  worked  hard  with 
my  books.  It  was  a  full,  round  life  with  lots  of  love  and 
happiness  in  it,  and  I  grew,  body  and  mind  and  spirit,  as 
free  and  natural  as  the  big  oak  trees  in  the  woods  pasture. 

"  Mr.  Carmichael  had  looked  up  my  blood  father  and  had 
done  what  he  could  for  him;  but  it  was  no  use,  and  one 
winter's  morning  he  was  found  frozen  in  an  alley.  I  did  n't 
learn  of  it  until  the  next  June  when  he  took  me  down  to 
the  city  cemetery  where  my  father  and  mother  lay  side  by 
side.  I  did  feel  downcast  as  we  all  do  in  the  presence  of 
death ;  but  it  was  n't  my  real  father  and  mother  who  were 
lyin'  there  beneath  the  quiet  mounds.  Fatherhood  and 
motherhood  are  somethin'  more  than  mere  physical  pro- 
cesses. The  real  fathers  and  mothers  are  those  who  put  the 
best  part  o'  their  lives  into  makin'  the  big,  gloomy  world 
into  a  tender  home  for  all  the  little  ones ;  and  after  my  visit 
to  the  graveyard  I  felt  drawn  even  closer  to  Dad  and  Mother 
than  I  had  before. 

"  Children  ought  to  have  dogs  and  hosses  and  plenty  of 
air  and  soil  about  'em,  Happy.  We  don't  learn  from 
preachin',  we  learn  from  example ;  and  we  can  learn  a  heap 
from  the  animals.  We  talk  about  our  sanitary  systems; 
but  we  allus  mean  the  sanitary  systems  outside  our  bodies. 
Now,  the  animals  have  sanitary  systems,  but  they  are  inside 
their  own  skins,  where  they  rightly  belong.  Look  at  the 
beautiful  teeth  of  a  dog —  These  come  from  eatin'  proper 
food  at  the  proper  time  and  in  proper  quantities.  If  a  dog 
is  n't  hungry,  the  dog  won't  eat.  If  a  child  is  n't  hungry, 
it  is  fed  candy  in  a  lot  o'  cases,  and  this  is  downright 
wicked.  Of  course  the  animals  find  it  hard  to  live,  crowded 
up  the  way  man  allus  fixes  things;  but  as  a  rule  animals 


A    REMINISCENCE  63 

are  temperate  and  clean,  patient  and  honest,  wise  and  strong ; 
and  I  wish  we  'd  use  'em  more  as  instructors  for  the  young. 
Most  mothers  think  a  dog's  tongue  is  dirty —  Why,  a 
dog's  tongue  is  chemically  clean,  and  healin'  in  its  action; 
while  the  human  mouth  is  generally  poisonous  —  ask  a 
dentist. 

"  And  a  cow's  breath,  after  she  has  rolled  in  with  sweetly 
solemn  dignity  from  the  clover  field  —  Ah,  that 's  a  pleas- 
ant memory !  I  '11  venture  to  say  'at  mighty  few  monarchs 
have  been  as  worthy  o'  bein'  kissed  before  breakfast,  as 
Nebukaneezer  was  while  he  was  undergoin'  punishment  for 
his  sins.  I  had  gone  to  that  farm  with  my  soul  all  stunted 
and  gnarly ;  but  it  straightened  out  and  shot  its  little  stems 
up  toward  the  blue,  the  same  as  the  stalks  o'  corn  did. 

"  All  I  had  as  a  start  was  a  love  of  animals ;  and  this  is 
why  I  allus  try  to  find  the  one  soft  spot  in  a  man's  nature  — 
Even  if  it 's  a  secret  vice,  it  is  something  to  work  on.  This 
is  what  makes  such  a  problem  of  Tyrrel  Jones.  I  can't 
find  out  a  single  soft  place  in  him ;  but  I  'm  goin'  to  get 
into  the  heart  of  him  yet,  if  I  can  find  the  way. 

"  Well,  Dad  and  Mother  passed  away  within  a  week  of 
each  other  a  short  time  after  I  had  been  graduated.  I  had 
made  up  my  mind  to  stay  on  the  farm  with  'em  as  long  as 
they  stayed;  although  all  sorts  of  voices  were  callin'  to 
me  from  the  big  outer  world;  but  their  daughter  lived  in 
the  city,  and  had  been  weaned  away  from  the  farm,  so  she 
sold  it,  and  I  started  on  my  pilgrimage. 

"  They  had  left  me  an  income  of  three  hundred  and  fifty 
dollars  a  year;  and  I  determined  to  go  to  college.  When 
I  thought  of  how  rich  and  full  my  own  life  had  been  made, 
after  its  stunted  beginning,  I  wanted  to  do  all  I  could  to 
make  the  whole  earth  like  that  farm  had  been,  and  it 


64  FRIAR    TUCK 

seemed  to  me  that  the  best  way  was  to  become  a  priest  of 
the  Lord.  I  tried  my  best;  but  I  have  been  consid'able  of 
a  failure,  Happy.  Now,  I  hardly  know  where  I  stand.  I 
am  sort  of  an  outcast  now,  and  just  doing  what  seems  best 
on  my  own  hook. 

"  A  lot  of  my  ideals  have  been  lost,  a  lot  of  my  hopes 
have  faded,  a  lot  of  my  work  has  seemed  like  sweeping  back 
the  waves  of  the  sea;  but  for  all  I  have  lost,  new  things 
have  taken  their  place,  and  I  have  never  lost  my  faith  in 
the  Lord.  Now,  I  am  weak  in  doctrine  and  a  stranger  to 
dogma;  and  the  things  for  which  I  fight  with  all  my  soul 
and  heart  and  strength,  are  kindliness  and  decency. 

"  As  long  as  one  bein'  in  the  world  is  cold  or  hungry  or 
diseased,  every  other  bein'  is  liable  to  become  hungry  and 
cold  and  diseased.  What  I  am  fighting  for  is  a  world 
without  poverty.  Most  o'  the  ills  of  life  spring  from  pov- 
erty, and  poverty  is  the  result  of  selfishness  and  greed. 
The  earth  is  reeking  with  riches,  but  its  bounty  is  not 
divided  fairly. 

"  Happy,  if  I  could  only  hold  up  the  Lord,  so  that  all 
men  might  see  the  beauty  and  fullness  of  Him,  the  glory 
and  grandeur  of  His  simple  life  and  His  majestic  self-sacri- 
fice, the  fleeting  cheapness  of  material  things  would  sink 
to  their  real  value,  and  we  would  all  become  one  great 
family,  workin'  together  in  peace  and  contentment.  Now, 
go  on  to  sleep." 

It  was  purty  late  by  this  time  sure  enough,  and  I  fell 
asleep  soon  after  this ;  but  I  awakened  durin'  the  night  and 
found  myself  alone.  It  was  cold  when  I  stuck  my  nose  out 
from  under  the  tarp,  but  it  was  a  wonderful  night,  clear 
and  still,  with  the  stars  swingin'  big  and  bright  just  above 
my  reach. 


A    REMINISCENCE  65 

As  I  lay  there,  I  heard  Friar  Tuck  singin'  softly  to  himself 
out  where  the  trail  dipped  down  into  the  valley: 

"  The  night  is  dark,  and  I  am  far  from  home, 

Lead  Thou  me  on! 

Keep  Thou  my  feet:  I  do  not  ask  to  see 
The  distant  scene,  —  one  step  enough  for  me." 

I  had  never  heard  his  voice  so  wonderfully  beautiful 
before;  but,  my  stars,  the  sadness  of  it  made  me  choke! 
It  was  n't  just  a  song,  it  was  a  cry ;  and  I  knew  that  it 
came  from  a  lonely,  bleedin'  heart.  I  put  my  head  under 
the  covers  again,  puzzlin'  over  what  was  on  his  mind;  but 
first  thing  I  knew  I  was  awakened  by  the  glad  voice  of  the 
old  Friar  Tuck,  singin'  his  favorite  mornin'  hymn :  "  Bright- 
est and  best  of  the  sons  of  the  morning " ;  so  I  cooked 
breakfast,  and  he  went  his  way,  and  I  went  mine. 


CHAPTER   SEVEN 

HORACE  WALPOLE   BRADFORD 

THE  Diamond  Dot,  while  it  was  about  the  idealest  ranch  in 
the  West  from  most  standpoints,  was  run  a  little  loose. 
Jabez  did  n't  have  any  luxurious  tastes,  and  he  was  n't 
miserly ;  so  he  did  n't  strain  things  down  to  the  last  penny 
—  not  by  a  whole  lot.  All  he  asked  was  to  have  his  own 
way  and  be  comfortable;  and  so  he  allus  kept  more 
punchers  'n  he  had  actual  need  of,  and  unless  they  got  jubi- 
lant over  imposin'  on  him,  he  just  shut  his  eyes  and  grinned 
about  it. 

Takin'  his  location  and  outfit  into  account,  and  he  just 
simply  could  n't  help  but  make  money ;  so  we  all  had  a 
fairly  easy  time  of  it  and  grew  tender  feelin's,  the  same  as 
spoiled  children;  which  is  why  we  sometimes  quit,  for  we 
never  had  any  other  excuse  for  it. 

Barbie  was  a  notice-takin'  child,  if  ever  the'  was  one; 
and  she  stood  out  for  company  as  a  general  and  standin' 
order.  Company  did  n't  affect  ol'  Cast  Steel  one  way  or 
the  other;  they  were  just  the  same  to  him  as  a  couple  o' 
hundred  head  o'  ponies,  more  or  less ;  and  so  the  news  got 
out  that  we  allus  had  a  lot  of  extra  beds  made  up  and  any 
one  was  welcome  to  stretch  out  in  'em  who  wanted  to.  The 
result  o'  this  was,  'at  we  drew  visitors  as  easy  as  molasses 
draws  flies.  I  lived  at  the  home  house  on  account  o'  bein' 
Barbie's  pal,  and  so  I  got  into  the  habit  o'  bein'  a  sort  of 
permanent  reception  committee.  Some  o'  these  visitors  was 


HORACE  WALPOLE  BRADFORD  67 

a  plague  to  me ;  but  Jabez  did  n't  like  to  run  any  risk  of 
havin'  'em  ruined  beyond  repair,  so  it  was  generally  under- 
stood that  I  had  to  use  ex-treme  caution  when  I  started  in 
to  file  the  clutch  off  their  welcome. 

This  spring  'at  I  have  in  mind,  we  had  as  visitor  one 
o'  the  easternest  dudes  I  was  ever  tangled  up  with.  He 
came  out  for  his  health,  which  is  the  excuse  most  of  'em 
gives ;  but  this  one  took  more  ways  of  avoidin'  health  'n 
airy  other  of  'em  I  ever  saw.  He  smoked  cigars  all  day 
long,  big  black  ones,  strong  enough  to  run  a  sawmill,  he 
ate  fattenin'  food  from  mornin'  till  night,  and  when  he  drove 
out  in  the  buckboard  to  take  his  exercise,  he  suffered  from 
what  he  called  fatigue.  He  used  to  sit  up  as  wide  awake 
as  an  owl  till  along  about  ten  every  night;  and  half  the 
time  he  didn't  crawl  out  until  near  seven  in  the  mornin'. 
He  certainly  was  a  pest ! 

What  he  complained  of  most,  was  his  nerves ;  and  he  'd 
sit  for  hours,  talkin'  about  'em  to  anything  'at  had  ears. 
He  said  the  worst  of  it  was,  he  could  n't  sleep  nights.  I 
had,  of  course,  heard  o'  nerves  before  ever  I  saw  him;  but 
I  had  never  heard  of  'em  turnin'  to  and  devilin'  a  man,  the 
way  his  did ;  so  at  first  I  was  honestly  interested,  and  asked 
him  all  I  could  think  up  about  'em;  but  after  a  day  or  so, 
I  'd  'a'  been  perfectly  willin'  to  put  up  the  coin  out  o'  my 
own  pocket  to  have  him  go  to  a  dentist  and  have  every  last 
one  of  his  nerves  pulled. 

I  don't  begrudge  sympathy  to  any  afflicted  individual; 
but  the  more  I  sympathized  with  this  feller,  the  more  affec- 
tionate toward  me  he  got;  and  he  used  to  trot  about  after 
me,  warbilin'  out  dirges  about  his  nerves  until  I  was  tempted 
to  tie  a  stone  around  his  neck  and  lose  him  down  the 
cistern. 


68  FRIAR    TUCK 

He  ran  to  language,  too,  this  one  did.  His  conversation 
was  so  full  of  it  that  a  feller  could  scarcely  understand  what 
he  was  tryin'  to  say.  He  was  ferociously  interested  in  the 
ancient  Greeks;  and  if  a  man  succeeded  in  wedgin'  him 
away  from  his  nerves,  he  began  immediate  to  discourse 
about  these  ancient  Greeks.  Now,  I  did  n't  have  a  single 
thing  again'  any  o'  these  ancient  Greeks  before  this  Dude 
struck  us,  none  of  'em  ever  havin'  crossed  my  trail  before  ;  but 
they  sure  did  have  a  rotten  outfit  o'  names,  and  they  were 
the  most  infernal  liars  'at  ever  existed.  Three-headed  dogs, 
and  women  with  snakes  for  hair,  were  as  common  in  their 
tales  as  thieves  among  the  Sioux.  Barbie  did  n't  have  any 
use  for  this  Eastener  either ;  so  I  decided  to  fit  him  out  with 
a  deep-rooted  desire  for  home  influences. 

I  took  ol'  Tank  Williams  into  my  confidence,  he  bein'  the 
most  gruesome  lookin'  creature  we  had  in  our  parts.  He  was 
a-big  man  of  curious  construction  and  he  had  one  eye  which 
ran  wild.  Tank  never  knew  what  this  free  eye  was  up  to; 
and  while  he  would  be  examinin'  the  ground,  the  free  eye 
would  be  gazin'  up  at  a  tree  as  intent  as  though  he  had  set 
it  to  watch  for  a  crow.  Durin'  his  younger  days,  Tank  had 
formed  the  habit  of  indulgin'  in  gang  fights  as  much  as 
possible,  and  all  of  his  features  had  been  stampede^ out  o' 
their  natural  orbits;  but  this  free  eye  beat  anything  I  ever 
see. 

They  had  him  down  on  his  back  one  time,  and  he  was 
gnawin'  away  contentedly  at  some  feller's  thumb,  when  the 
feller  reached  up  his  trigger  finger  and  scooped  out  Tank's 
eye.  The  shape  and  color  weren't  hurt  a  bit;  but  some 
o'  the  workin'  parts  got  disconnected,  so  that  he  couldn't 
see  with  it ;  but  it  appeared  to  be  full  as  good  an  eye  as  the 
one  he  looked  with. 


HORACE  WALPOLE  BRADFORD  69 

All  the  sleep  Tank  ever  wanted  was  six  hours  out  o'  the 
twenty-four,  and  he  did  n't  care  how  he  got  'em  —  ten  min- 
utes at  a  time,  or  all  in  one  lump.  He  could  sleep  sittin'  up 
straight,  or  ridin',  or  stretched  out  in  bed,  or  most  any 
way.  I  think  he  could  sleep  while  walkin,'  though  I  was 
never  able  to  surprise  him  at  it.  He  agreed  to  back  me  up, 
and  Spider  Kelley  also  said  he  was  willin'  to  do  everything 
in  his  power  to  furnish  our  guest  some  pleasant  recollec- 
tions after  he  'd  gone  back  to  a  groove  which  fitted  him 
better. 

As  soon  as  I  began  to  plan  my  trip,  I  started  to  rehearse 
curious  secrets  about  Tank  to  the  Eastener,  whose  name 
was  Horace  Walpole  Bradford.  I  told  Horace  that  Tank 
had  a  case  o'  nerves  which  made  his'n  seem  like  a  bundle 
of  old  shoe-laces ;  and  that  if  something  was  n't  done  for 
him  soon,  I  feared  he  was  goin'  to  develop  insanity.  I  said 
that  even  now,  it  was  n't  safe  to  contrary  him  none,  and 
that  I  'd  be  a  heap  easier  in  my  own  mind  if  Tank  was  cor- 
alled  up  in  a  cell  somewhere,  with  irons  on. 

I  did  n't  tell  Tank  what  sort  of  a  disposition  I  was  sup- 
plyin'  him  with  for  fear  he  'd  overdo  it.  Tank  did  n't 
know  a  nerve  from  an  ingrowin'  hair;  but  when  he  and 
Horact  paired  off  to  tell  each  other  their  symptoms,  I  '11 
have  to  own  up  that  his  tales  of  anguish  an'  sufferin'  made 
Horace's  troubles  sound  like  dance  music. 

I  told  Horace  that  a  trip  through  the  mountains  would 
soothe  and  invigorate  him,  until  he  'd  be  able  to  sleep, 
hangin'  by  his  toes  like  a  bat;  but  the  trouble  was  to  find 
something  which  interested  him  enough  to  lure  him  on  the 
trip.  There  was  a  patent  medicine  almanac  at  the  place, 
and  I  studied  up  its  learnin'  until  I  had  it  at  my  tongue's 
end,  and  I  also  used  a  lot  o'  Friar  Tuck's  health  theories; 


70  FRIAR    TUCK 

so  that  I  got  Horace  interested  enough  to  talk  my  ear- 
drums callous;  but  not  enough  to  take  the  trip. 

I  did  n't  know  much  about  nerves ;  but  I  was  as  familiar 
with  sleep  as  though  I  had  graduated  from  eleven  medical 
colleges,  and  I  knew  if  he  would  just  follow  my  directions, 
it  would  give  him  such  an  appetite  for  slumber  that  he  'd 
drop  into  it  without  rememberin'  to  close  his  eyelids.  Ol' 
Jabez  happened  to  mention  an  Injun  bury  in'  ground  with 
the  members  reposin'  on  top  o'  pole  scaffolds,  and  this 
proved  to  be  the  bait.  Horace  wanted  to  see  this,  and  it 
was  a  four  days'  drive  by  buckboard ;  so  I  heaved  a  sigh 
o'  relief  and  prepared  to  do  my  duty. 

When  all  was  ready,  we  packed  our  stuff  in  the  good  buck- 
board,  putting  in  an  extra  saddle  for  the  accident  we  felt 
sure  was  goin'  to  happen.  Spider  started  as  driver,  while 
I  rode  behind,  leadin'  a  horse  with  Tank's  saddle  on,  though 
Horace  thought  it  was  Spider's.  We  had  told  him  that  it 
made  our  backs  ache  to  ride  in  a  buckboard  all  day,  so  we 
would  change  off  once  in  a  while.  Horace  wanted  to  do  the 
drivin'  himself ;  but  we  pointed  out  that  he  was  n't  used  to 
our  kind  o'  roads,  and  consequently  favored  the  little  hills 
too  much.  He  was  inhumanly  innocent,  and  it  was  almost 
like  feedin'  a  baby  chalk  and  water. 

We  trotted  along  gentle,  until  the  rear  spring  came  loose 
goin'  down  a  little  dip  to  a  dry  crick  bed,  about  ten  miles 
out.  We  talked  it  over  and  decided  'at  the  best  plan  would 
be  for  Spider  to  drive  back  and  get  the  old  buckboard ;  so 
after  unloadin'  our  stuff,  I  took  the  tap  out  o'  my  pocket, 
fixed  the  spring,  tied  a  rope  about  it  to  deceive  Horace,  and 
Spider  drove  back  for  the  old  buckboard  which  had  been 
discarded  years  before,  but  which  we  had  fixed  up  for  this 
trip  and  painted  until  it  looked  almost  safe  to  use. 


HORACE  WALPOLE  BRADFORD  71 

Before  long  we  saw  the  buckboard  comin'  back;  but 
much  to  our  surprise,  Tank  Williams  was  drivin'  it,  an' 
givin'  what  he  thought  was  the  imitation  of  a  nervous  man. 
He  would  stand  up  an'  yell,  crack  his  mule-skinner,  and  send 
the  ponies  along  on  a  dead  run.  He  came  up  to  us,  and  said 
that  he  had  had  an  attack  o'  nerves,  had  n't  slept  a  wink  the 
night  before;  and  when  Spider  Kelley  had  refused  to  let 
him  go  in  his  place,  he  had  torn  him  from  the  seat  an'  had 
trampled  him. 

"  I  trampled  him,"  sez  Tank  solemnly,  his  free  eye  lookin' 
straight  into  the  sun.  "  I  hope  I  did  n't  destroy  him ;  but 
in  my  frenzy  I  trampled  him." 

Horace  looked  worried.  "  Tank,"  sez  I  soothin'ly,  "  we 
don't  really  need  any  one  else  along.  You  just  help  us  to 
load,  an'  then  go  back,  like  a  good  feller." 

Tank  stood  up  on  the  seat,  an'  held  the  whip  ready.  "  My 
life  depends  on  me  takin'  this  trip !  "  he  yelled.  "  My  life 
depends  on  it ;  it  depends  on  it,  I  tell  you.  My  life  depends 
on  me  takin'  this  trip !  " 

He  went  on  repeatin'  about  his  life  dependin'  on  his  takin' 
that  trip,  until  I  made  a  sign  to  Horace,  and  said  'at  we  'd 
better  let  him  go  along.  Horace  was  n't  ambitious  to  be 
trampled ;  so  he  concluded  to  concur,  an'  climbed  into  the 
seat  beside  Tank.  Any  one  else  would  'a'  noticed  that  it 
was  Tank's  saddle  on  the  hoss  I  was  leadin';  but  Horace 
never  noticed  anything  which  was  n't  directly  connected 
with  his  own  body.  He  did  n't  even  have  any  idee  that  the 
sun  had  set  habits  in  the  matter  o'  risin'  an'  settin'  —  which 
was  another  fact  I  had  took  into  account. 

We  were  drivin'  four  broncs  to  the  buckboard,  an'  they 
was  new  to  the  game  and  in  high  spirits.  Tank  was  also 
in  high  spirits,  an'  we  went  at  a  clip  which  was  inspiring  even 


72  FRIAR    TUCK 

to  sound  nerves.  We  did  our  level  best  to  give  Horace 
somethin'  real  to  worry  about,  an'  from  the  very  start  his 
nerves  was  so  busy  handin'  in  idees  an'  sensations  that  his 
mind  was  took  up  with  these  instead  of  with  the  nerves 
themselves  as  was  usual. 

Well,  we  sure  had  a  delightful  ride  that  afternoon :  every 
time  'at  Horace  would  beseech  Tank  to  be  more  careful  in 
swingin'  around  down-hill  curves,  Tank  would  seize  him  by 
the  arm  with  his  full  squeezin'  grip,  an'  moan :  "  It 's  my 
nerves,  my  pore  nerves.  This  is  one  o'  the  times  when  I  'm 
restive,  I  got  to  have  action;  my  very  life  depends  on  it! 
Whoop,  hit  'em  up  —  Whee !  "  an'  he  'd  crack  his  mule- 
skinner  about  the  ears  o'  the  ponies,  an'  we  'd  have  another 
runaway  for  a  spell. 

Horace  hadn't  the  mite  of  an  idee  in  which  direction  he 
was  travelin';  all  he  did  was  to  hang  on  and  hope.  The 
confounded  buckboard  was  tougher  'n  we  had  figured  on, 
and  it  did  n't  bust  until  near  dark.  As  they  went  up  the 
slope,  I  could  see  the  left  hind  wheel  weavin'  purty  rapid, 
an'  as  they  tore  down  the  grade  to  Cottonwood  Crick,  things 
began  to  creak  an'  rattle  most  threatenin'.  We  had  decided 
to  camp  on  the  crick,  an'  Tank  swung  up  his  team  with  a 
flourish.  The  hind  wheel  could  n't  stand  the  strain,  an' 
when  it  crumbled,  Horace,  an'  the  rest  o'  the  baggage,  whip- 
crackered  off  like  a  pinwheel.  Of  course  when  one  wheel 
went,  the  others  dished  in  company,  an'  the  whole  thing 
was  a  wreck. 

The  ponies  were  comfortable  weary,  an'  after  I  had  roped 
one  an'  the  rest  had  fallen  over  him,  we  soothed  'em  down 
without  much  trouble,  an'  started  to  make  camp.  Horace 
was  all  in,  an'  was  minded  to  sit  on  his  shoulder  blades  an' 
rest;  but  this  wasn't  part  o'  the  plan,  an'  we  made  him 


HORACE  WALPOLE  BRADFORD  73 

hustle  like  a  new  camp-boy.  As  soon  as  supper  was  over, 
he  lit  a  cigar,  an'  prepared  to  take  a  rest.  We  had  decided 
that  those  big,  black  cigars  was  n't  best  for  his  nerves,  so 
we  had  smuggled  out  the  box,  an'  had  worked  a  little  sul- 
phur into  all  but  the  top  row.  He  lit  his  cigar  and  gave 
us  one  apiece,  but  he  was  so  sleepy  he  could  n't  keep  his  on 
fire ;  and  it  was  comical  to  watch  him. 

Every  time  he  'd  nod  off,  Tank  would  utter  an  exclama- 
tion, an'  walk  up  an'  down,  rubbin'  his  hands  an'  cussin' 
about  his  nerves.  Horace  was  dead  tired  from  bein' 
jounced  about  on  the  buckboard  all  day;  but  he  was  wor- 
ried about  Tank,  an'  this  would  wake  him  effectual. 

About  ten  o'clock  I  sez :  "  Tank,  what  happened  that 
night  when  you  got  nervous  up  in  the  Spider  Water 
country  ?  " 

"Oh,  don't  ask  me,  don't  ask  me,"  sez  Tank,  gittin'  up  an' 
walkin'  off  into  the  darkness. 

"  I  wish  to  glory  he  had  n't  come  along,"  I  sez  to  Horace. 
"  I  fear  we  're  goin'  to  have  trouble ;  but  chances  are  that 
a  good  night's  rest  '11  quiet  him,  all  right." 

Purty  soon  Tank  came  back,  lit  his  pipe,  an'  sat  facin' 
Horace  with  his  lookin'  eye,  an'  everything  else  in  the  land- 
scape with  his  free  one.  "  You  know  how  it  is  with  nerves," 
he  sez  to  Horace.  "  You  perhaps,  of  all  them  I  have  ever 
met  up  with,  know  how  strained  and  twisted  nerves  fill  a 
man's  heart  with  murder,  set  his  teeth  on  edge  and  put  the 
taste  of  blood  in  his  throat ;  so  I  'm  goin'  to  tell  the  whole 
o'  that  horrid  experience,  which  I  have  never  yet  confided  to 
a  livin'  soul  before.  Have  you  got  a  match  ?  " 

Tank's  pipe  allus  went  out  at  the  most  interestin'  times; 
and  he  could  n't  no  wise  talk  without  smokin'.  We  all  knew 
this;  so  whenever  Tank  got  headed  away  on  a  tale,  we 


74  FRIAR    TUCK 

heaved  questions  at  him,  just  to  see  how  many  matches  we 
could  make  him  burn.  He  'd  light  a  match  and  hold  it  to 
his  pipe;  but  he  allus  lit  off  an  idee  with  the  match,  and 
when  he  'd  speak  out  the  idee,  he  'd  blow  out  the  match. 
Or  else  he  'd  be  so  took  up  by  his  own  talkin',  he  'd  hold  the 
match  until  it  burnt  his  fingers;  then,  without  shuttin'  off 
his  discourse,  he  'd  moisten  the  fingers  on  his  other  hand, 
take  the  burnt  end  of  the  match  careful,  and  hold  it  until  it 
was  plumb  burnt  up,  without  ever  puttin'  it  to  his  pipe.  I 
did  n't  want  to  waste  matches  on  this  trip  so  I  told  Horace 
to  hand  Tank  his  cigar.  Horace  had  already  wasted  two 
cigars,  besides  the  ones  he  had  given  us ;  and  I  wanted  him 
to  get  to  the  sulphur  ones  as  soon  as  convenient. 

Tank's  mind  was  preoccupied  with  the  tale  we  had  made 
up ;  so  he  took  Horace's  fresh  cigar,  lit  his  pipe  by  it,  threw 
the  cigar  into  the  fire,  and  said  moodily :  "  He  was  un- 
obligin'.  Yes,  that  cross-grained  old  miner  was  un- 
obligin'.  Of  course,  I  wouldn't  have  done  it  if  I  hadn't 
been  nervous ;  but  I  say  now,  as  I  Ve  allus  thought,  that 
he  brought  it  on  himself  by  bein'  unobligin'." 

Tank's  gloomy  tones  had  wakened  Horace  up  complete; 
and  as  he  started  to  light  another  cigar,  I  got  ready  for  bed. 
"  You  two  have  already  got  nerves,"  I  sez  to  'em ;  "  but  I 
don't  want  to  catch  'em,  so  I  '11  sleep  alone,  and  you  can 
bunk  together."  I  unrolled  my  tarp  close  to  the  fire  and 
crawled  into  it,  intendin'  to  take  my  rest  while  I  listened 
to  Tank  unfold  his  story. 

It  was  a  clean,  fresh  night,  just  right  for  sleepin' ;  and  it 
almost  seemed  a  shame  to  put  that  innocent  little  Eastener 
through  his  treatment;  but  it  was  for  his  own  good  so  I 
stretched  out  with  a  sigh  o'  content,  and  looked  at  the  other 
two  by  the  fire. 


HORACE  WALPOLE  BRADFORD  75 

Horace  was  short  and  fat  around  the  middle  with  stringy 
arms  and  legs.  He  wore  some  stuff  he  called  side-burns 
on  his  face.  They  started  up  by  his  ears,  curved  along  his 
jaws  and  were  fastened  to  the  ends  of  his  stubby  mustache. 
He  kept  'em  cropped  short  and,  truth  to  tell,  they  were  an 
evil-lookin'  disfigurement,  though  he  did  n't  seem  to  feel 
a  mite  o'  shame  at  wearin'  'em.  His  face  was  full  o'  trouble, 
and  yet  he  was  so  sleepy  he  had  to  hitch  his  eyebrows  clear 
up  to  his  hair  to  keep  his  eyes  open.  Tank's  face  never  did 
have  what  could  rightly  be  called  expressions.  His  features 
used  to  fall  into  different  kinds  o'  convulsions;  but  they 
were  so  mussed  up  it  was  impossible  to  read  'em.  I  looked 
at  these  two  a  minute,  and  then  I  had  to  pull  my  head  under 
the  tarp  to  keep  from  laughin'. 


CHAPTER   EIGHT 

A    CASE   OF   NERVES 

"  I  WAS  all  alone,"  sez  Tank.  "  I  had  been  up  in  the  Spider 
Water  country  lookin'  for  a  favorite  ridin'  pony;  but  my 
hoss  broke  a  leg,  and  I  packed  my  saddle  and  stuff  on  my 
head  until  my  nerves  began  to  swell.  Then  I  threw  the  stuff 
away  and  hunted  for  a  human.  I  roamed  for  weeks  without 
comin'  across  a  white  man,  and  my  nerves  got  worse  an' 
worse.  You  know  how  it  is  with  nerves;  how  they  set  up 
that  dull  ache  along  the  back  o'  your  spinal  cord  until  you 
get  desperate,  and  long  to  bite  and  scratch  and  tear  your 
feller-bein's  to  pieces  —  well,  I  had  'em  worse  this  time  'n 
ever  I  had  'em  before ;  and  they  loosened  up  my  brain-cells 
until  my  self-control  oozed  out  and  I  longed  to  fling  myself 
over  a  cliff.  Have  you  got  a  match  ?  " 

Horace  passed  over  his  fresh  cigar,  and  Tank  lit  his  pipe 
and  tossed  this  cigar  into  the  fire  also.  Horace  looked  at  it 
sadly  for  a  moment ;  but  he  was  game,  and  lit  another. 

"  Finally,"  sez  Tank,  "  I  came  upon  a  lonely  cabin  at  the 
bottom  of  a  gorge ;  and  in  it  was  a  little  man  who  was 
minin'  for  gold.  He  was  about  your  build,  except  that 
toilin'  with  pick  and  shovel  had  distributed  his  meat  around 
to  a  better  advantage,  and  he  wore  his  whiskers  complete, 
without  any  patch  scraped  off  the  chin.  It  was  just  night 
when  I  reached  the  cabin,  and  he  invited  me  in  to  eat ;  which 
I  am  free  to  say  I  did  until  I  was  stuffed  up  to  my  swaller, 
and  then  we  prepared  to  sleep. 


A    CASE    OF    NERVES  77 

"  Now,  a  feller  would  nachely  think  I  'd  'a'  gone  right 
to  sleep;  but  instead  o'  this,  my  nerves  began  to  twist  an' 
squirm  an'  gnaw  at  me  until  I  was  almost  beside  myself; 
and  after  fightin'  it  for  several  hours,  I  woke  up  the  miner, 
and  asked  him  as  polite  as  a  lady,  if  he  would  n't  rub  my 
brow  for  a  few  minutes.  Seems  like  when  I  'm  nervous, 
the'  won't  nothin'  soothe  me  so  quick  as  to  have  my  brow 
rubbed;  but  this  little  coyote  refused  pointblank  to  do  it. 

"  I  finally  got  down  on  my  knees  and  begged  him  to ; 
but  he  still  refused.  He  said  he  had  fed  me  six  meals  at 
once  and  given  me  shelter,  and  this  was  as  far  as  he  'd  go 
if  my  confounded  nerves  exploded  and  blew  the  place  up. 
I  was  meek  about  it,  I  tried  my  best  to  ward  off  trouble; 
but  just  then  a  nerve  up  under  my  ear  gave  a  wrench  which 
twisted  me  all  out  o'  shape,  and  I  lost  patience.  I  seized 
that  little  cuss  by  the  beard  and  I  yanked  him  out  on  the 
floor,  and  I  said  to  him  —  " 

Tank  had  once  been  unusual  gifted  in  framin'  up  bright- 
colored  profanity,  but  he  had  been  shuttin'  down  on  it  since 
the  night  he  had  helped  to  fake  the  hold-up  on  the  Friar,  and 
I  thought  he  had  lost  the  knack.  This  night,  though,  he 
seemed  to  find  a  spiritual  uplift  in  tellin'  to  Horace  exactly 
what  he  had  said  to  the  lonely  miner.  Before  he  finished 
this  part,  he  had  used  up  all  of  Horace's  good  cigars,  as 
lighters,  and  the  Eastener's  face  had  turned  a  palish  blue. 
I  'd  be  willin'  to  bet  that  Tank  made  the  swearin'  record  that 
night ;  though  of  course,  the'  ain't  any  way  to  prove  it. 

When  Tank  could  n't  think  of  any  new  combinations,  he 
covered  his  face  and  broke  into  tears.  Horace  sat  and 
looked  at  him  with  his  eyes  poppin'  out.  "  Don't  you  think 
you  could  go  to  sleep  ?  "  he  asked  after  a  bit. 

"Sleep!"  yelled  Tank.     "Sleep?     I  doubt  if  I  ever  do 


;8  FRIAR    TUCK 

sleep  again.  I  feel  worse  right  now  'n  I  did  that  night  in 
the  gorge." 

"  What  did  you  finally  do  that  time  ?  "  asked  Horace. 

"  I  hate  to  think  of  it,"  sez  Tank ;  and  he  put  his  elbows 
on  his  knees,  his  chin  in  his  hands,  and  stared  into  the  fire 
as  though  seein'  ghosts. 

Horace  watched  him  a  while,  and  then  he  lit  a  cigar  out 
of  the  second  layer.  He  took  one  puff  and  then  removed 
the  cigar  and  stared  at  it.  He  tried  another  puff,  and  then 
threw  it  into  the  fire,  where  it  spluttered  up  in  a  blue  flame. 
He  tried  six  more,  and  then  said  somethin'  I  could  n't  quite 
catch  and  threw  the  whole  box  into  the  fire;  while  Tank 
continued  to  stare  into  it  as  though  he  had  forgot  the'  was 
any  one  else  on  earth. 

"  Let 's  go  to  bed,"  sez  Horace. 

"  Have  you  got  a  match  ?  "  sez  Tank,  lookin'  around  with 
a  start.  Horace  took  a  burnin'  stick  from  the  fire,  and  Tank 
lit  his  pipe  with  it ;  and  from  that  on  Horace  kept  a  lighted 
stick  handy. 

"  How  in  thunder  did  you  get  to  sleep  that  night  in  the 
gorge  ?  "  demanded  Horace,  who  was  gettin'  impatient. 

"  Well,"  sez  Tank,  "  after  I  had  told  this  unobligin'  little 
cuss  exactly  what  I  thought  of  him,  he  pulled  out  a  gun  and 
tried  to  shoot  me  —  actually  tried  to  shoot  me  in  his  own 
cabin,  where  I  was  his  guest.  My  f  eelin's  were  hurt  worse  'n 
they  'd  ever  been  hurt  before ;  but  still  I  tried  to  calm 
myself;  and  if  it  had  n't  been  for  my  nerves,  I  'd  have  gone 
out  into  that  gorge  in  the  dead  o'  night,  and  never  set  eyes 
on  his  evil  face  again ;  but  I  could  n't  get  control  of  myself, 
so  I  took  his  gun  away  from  him  and  knocked  him  down 
with  it.  When  he  regained  consciousness,  he  was  in  a  re- 
pentant mood;  and  he  consented  to  rub  my  head. 


A    CASE    OF    NERVES  79 

"  He  rubbed  my  head  a  while  an'  I  sank  into  a  dreamless, 
health-given  repose ;  but  as  soon  as  I  was  asleep,  the  traitor- 
ious  sneak  crept  out  an'  started  to  run.  I  fled  after  him  as 
swift  as  I  could,  an'  caught  him  about  two  A.  M.  I  had  to 
twist  his  arms  to  make  him  come  back  with  me;  but  when 
I  had  once  got  him  back  to  the  shack,  I  tied  him  good  an' 
tight,  an'  made  him  rub  my  brow  again.  When  he  'd  rub 
slow  an'  gentle,  I  'd  sleep  peaceful  an'  quiet ;  but  the  minute 
he  'd  quit,  why,  I  'd  wake  up  again ;  so  he  rubbed  an' 
rubbed  an'  rubbed  "  —  Tank  smoothed  his  left  hand  gentle 
with  his  right,  an'  spoke  slow  an'  whispery  —  "  an'  I  slept 
an'  slept  an'  slept  an'  —  " 

The  darn  cuss  said  it  so  soothin'  an'  natural,  that  hanged 
if  I  did  n't  fall  asleep  myself,  though  the  last  I  remember, 
I  was  bitin'  my  lips  so  I  could  stay  awake  an'  see  the  fun. 
I  must  have  been  asleep  full  an  hour  before  I  was  woke  up 
by  Tank's  voice,  raised  in  anger.  I  stuck  my  nose  out  o' 
the  tarp,  an'  there  was  Tank  kneelin'  straddle  o'  the  other 
bed  which  he  had  rolled  up  in  the  shape  of  a  man.  Horace 
was  standin'  close  by  with  his  hands  on  his  hips  an'  lookin' 
altogether  droopy. 

"  I  raised  his  head  from  the  floor,  like  this,"  said  Tank, 
illustratin'  with  the  bed,  "  an'  then  I  beat  it  down  on  the 
planks  o'  the  floor;  an'  then  I  raised  it  up  again,  an'  then 
I  beat  it  down,  an'  then  I  raised  it  up  —  " 

I  had  to  stuff  a  corner  o'  the  soogan  into  my  mouth  to 
keep  from  laughin'  out  loud  at  the  expression  in  Horace's 
eyes;  but  Tank  kept  raisin'  that  poor  head  an'  beatin'  it 
down  again  for  so  long  that  I  fell  asleep  again  without 
intendin'  to. 

The  next  time  I  woke  up  Horace  was  speakin'.  He  was 
so  earnest  about  it  that  at  first  I  thought  he  had  been 


80  FRIAR    TUCK 

weepin' ;  but  he  was  simply  tryin'  to  make  his  voice  winnin' 
an'  persuadish. 

"I'll  rub  it,"  he  sez.  "I'll  rub  it  soft  an'  gentle, 
just  like  you  say  you  want  it  rubbed.  Come  on,  let 
me  rub  it."  I  looked  at  Tank  with  his  free  eye  rollin' 
about  as  though  it  was  follerin'  the  antics  of  a  delirious 
mosquito ;  and  I  'd  just  about  as  soon  have  rubbed  the 
brow  of  a  porcupine;  but  Horace  was  all  perked  up  with 
sympathy. 

"  No,"  sez  Tank,  sadly.  "  You  're  a  guest,  an'  it  would  n't 
be  polite.  If  you  was  a  stranger,  now,  why,  I  'd  choke  your 
heart  out  but  what  I  made  you  rub  it ;  but  not  a  guest.  No, 
I  could  n't  do  that.  I  'd  wake  Happy  up  an'  make  him  rub 
it ;  but  he  allus  sleeps  with  a  gun  under  his  head,  an'  he 's 
apt  to  shoot  before  he  's  full  awake." 

"  Well,  just  let  me  try  it  a  while,"  sez  Horace. 

"  I  'm  feared  to,"  sez  Tank,  beginnin'  to  weaken.  "  If 
you  was  to  start,  an'  I  was  to  fall  asleep,  an'  you  was  to 
quit,  I  might  dream  'at  you  was  that  unobligin'  man  which 
betrayed  me  back  in  the  lonely  shack;  an'  I  might  strangle 
you  or  somethin'  before  I  came  to  my  senses.  Nope,  the 
best  plan  is  just  to  sit  an'  chat  here  till  daylight.  My  nerves 
is  allus  better  after  sun-up." 

"  I  don't  think  I  can  stay  awake  much  longer,"  sez  Horace, 
almost  whimperin'. 

"  What  ?  "  sez  Tank  in  surprise.  "  You  claim  to  have 
nerves,  an'  yet  you  can  talk  o'  fallin'  asleep  at  this  time  o' 
night.  Great  Scott,  man,  you  ain't  got  no  nerves !  You  are 
as  flebmatic  as  a  horn  toad.  Oh,  I  wish  I  could  just  fall 
sleepy  for  one  minute." 

"  Let  me  try  rubbin'  your  brow,"  sez  Horace,  whose  eyes 
were  blinkin'  for  sleep,  but  whose  face  was  all  screwed  up 


A    CASE    OF    NERVES  81 

into  lines  of  worry  at  what  was  goin'  to  happen  to  him  after 
he  had  finally  give  in  an'  drifted  off. 

"  Well,"  sez  Tank,  "  I  '11  let  you  try ;  but  if  you  're  already 
sleepy,  I  doubt  if  any  good  comes  of  it.  You  sit  there  at 
the  head  o'  the  bed,  an'  I  '11  lay  my  head  in  your  lap,  an'  you 
rub  my  brow  soft  an'  gentle.  If  I  do  get  to  sleepin'  natural, 
why  o'  course  the'  won't  be  no  harm  done  in  you  takin'  a 
few  winks ;  but  for  the  love  o'  peace,  don't  sleep  sound." 

I  blame  near  choked  while  they  were  gettin'  settled, 
'cause  Horace  was  one  o'  those  finicky  cusses,  an'  Tank's 
head  looked  like  a  moth-eaten  buffalo  robe.  Finally,  how- 
ever, Tank  stretched  out  with  the  covers  up  around  his  neck 
an'  his  head  pillowed  in  Horace's  lap,  and  then  Horace  began 
to  rub  his  brow  as  soft  an'  gentle  as  he  knew  how. 

"  You  don't  do  it  clingy  enough,"  sez  Tank.  "  You  want 
to  just  rest  your  fingers  lightly,  but  still  have  'em  draw  along 
so  'at  they  '11  give  a  little  tingle.  There,  that 's  better.  Now 
then,  I  '11  lay  as  quiet  as  I  can,  an'  try  to  go  to  sleep."  Tank 
was  doin'  such  an  earnest  job,  he  had  plumb  fooled  himself 
into  believin'  it  was  mostly  true. 

He  gave  a  start  after  layin'  quiet  for  five  or  ten  minutes, 
an'  this  put  Horace  on  edge  again ;  but  Tank  did  n't  wake 
up.  Horace  had  a  saddle  blanket  around  his  shoulders ;  and 
the  last  I  saw  just  before  I  fell  asleep,  myself,  was  Horace 
gently  rubbin'  Tank's  brow,  an'  lookin'  down  careful  for  a 
change  of  expression.  They  made  a  curious  sight  with  the 
firelight  back  of  'em. 

It  was  grayin'  up  for  the  dawn  next  time  I  woke  up ;  and 
I  'd  had  my  sleep  out,  but  when  I  stuck  my  nose  out  from 
under  the  tarp,  I  found  it  purty  tol'able  frosty.  I  knew  it 
was  my  duty  to  roust  out  an'  keep  Horace  from  gettin'  more 
sleep  'n  my  treatment  for  his  nerves  called  for ;  but  I  was 


82  FRIAR    TUCK 

too  comfortable  to  pay  much  heed  to  the  still,  small  voice  of 
duty.  At  the  same  time  I  was  curious  to  see  what  my  boon 
comrades  was  up  to,  so  I  stretched  my  neck  an'  took  a  look 
at  'em. 

Horace  had  keeled  over  so  that  his  elbow  rested  on  Tank's 
chest  an'  his  head  rested  on  his  hand;  but  the  other  hand 
was  still  on  Tank's  brow,  an'  I  reckon  Horace  must  have 
rubbed  until  he  did  n't  care  whether  it  was  sleep  or  death 
he  drew,  just  so  he  got  rid  o'  keepin'  awake.  Tank  had 
reached  up  one  hand  so  it  circled  Horace's  waist ;  and  they 
made  the  most  lovable  group  a  body  ever  see. 

While  I  was  still  watchin'  'em,  Horace's  arm  gave  out,  an' 
he  settled  down  on  top  o'  Tank's  nose.  In  about  two  minutes 
Tank  came  to  with  a  jump,  an'  heaved  Horace  to  the  foot 
of  the  bed.  Tank  was  really  startled,  an'  he  came  to  his  feet 
glarin'.  "  You  blame  little  squab,  you !  "  he  yelled.  "  What 
are  you  tryin'  to  do  —  smother  me  ?  " 

Horace  staggered  to  his  feet,  but  he  could  n't  get  his  eyes 
open  more  'n  a  narrow  slit.  "  I  did  n't  do  it  on  purpose,  Mr. 
Williams,"  he  blubbled  like  a  drunk  man.  "  I  rubbed  until 
I  thought  my  hand  would  fall  off  at  the  wrist ;  but  I  reckon 
I  must  'a'  dropped  asleep.  Lie  down  again,  an'  I  '11  rub 
you  some  more." 

"  Too  late,"  sez  Tank,  "  too  late,  too  late.  I  never  can 
sleep  while  daylight 's  burnin' ;  but  still,  my  nerves  don't 
get  so  dangerous  until  after  nightfall;  so  we'll  just  turn 
to  an'  get  breakfast." 

Well,  I  got  up  after  yawnin'  a  few  times ;  and  after  askin' 
if  they  had  had  a  restful  night,  I  started  to  get  breakfast. 
Horace  staggered  about,  gettin'  wood  an'  water  an'  doin' 
what  he  was  able  to,  while  Tank  wrangled  in  the  hosses. 

After  breakfast,  which  I  must  say  for  Horace,  he  et  in 


A    CASE    OF    NERVES  83 

able  shape,  we  started  to  saddle  up,  puttin'  the  spare  saddle 
on  the  hoss  I  had  rode  the  day  before.  "  Which  one  o'  you 
is  goin'  back  after  the  other  buckboard  ?  "  asked  Horace. 

"  Why,  we  ain't  goin'  back  at  all,"  sez  I.  "  It 's  full  fifty 
miles,  an'  we  can't  keep  switchin'  buckboards  every  day  on 
a  trip  like  this.  We  '11  just  ride  the  ponies  the  rest  o'  the 
way." 

"  Ride  ?  "  sez  Horace.    "  Ride !  " 


CHAPTER   NINE 

TREATING   THE   CASE 

HORACE  started  to  enlarge  on  how  much  he  did  n't  know 
about  ridin' ;  but  Tank  breaks  in  with  a  plea  for  his  nerves. 
"  Look  here,"  he  said,  scowlin'  at  Horace  with  his  good 
eye,  while  the  free  one  rove  around  wild  in  his  face,  "  your 
nerves  are  a  little  out  o'  fix,  an'  mine  is  plumb  tied  into  knots. 
This  here  outin'  will  be  the  best  thing  we  can  do  for  our- 
selves, an'  you  got  to  come  along.  No  matter  which  way 
you  go,  you  got  to  ride ;  so  the'  ain't  no  sense  in  makin'  a 
fuss  about  it.  We  '11  mount  you  up  on  as  gentle  a  cayuse  as 
the'  is  in  the  West ;  an'  we  won't  tell  no  one  if  you  hang  on 
to  the  saddle  horn  goin'  down  hill." 

"  That 's  right,  Mr.  Bradford,"  sez  I  respectful.  "  You  'd 
have  to  ride  back  anyway,  so  you  might  as  well  come  on 
with  us  an'  have  a  pleasant  outing." 

"  Besides,"  sez  Tank,  "  up  there  in  the  Wind  River 
country  we  stand  a  chance  o'  gettin'  somethin'  for  our 
nerves,  if  the  Injuns  happen  to  be  in  a  good  humor.  Those 
Injun  doctors  know  all  about  hurbs  an'  which  diseases  they 
grow  for,  an'  when  they  're  in  a  good  humor,  they  '11  sell 
ya  some." 

"  What  '11  they  do  if  they  're  not  in  a  good  humor  ?  "  asked 
Horace. 

"  Well,  that 's  the  beatin'est  question  I  've  yet  heard !  " 
sez  Tank.  "  How  does  any  one  know  what  an  Injun  '11  do 
when  he  's  not  in  a  good  humor  ?  I  don't  reckon  any  one 


TREATING    THE    CASE  85 

ever  tried  to  learn  the  answer  to  that  question.  When  an 
Injun 's  not  in  a  good  humor,  either  you  've  got  to  kill  him 
or  he  '11  kill  you.  If  we  hear  tell  'at  they  're  out  o'  humor, 
we  '11  simply  scurry  back  at  the  first  hint,  an'  don't  you 
forget  it." 

Horace  was  n't  resigned  yet ;  so  he  kept  sawin'  away  with 
his  questions  all  the  time  we  were  tyin'  on  the  beds  an'  grub. 
The  grass  had  been  purty  brown  down  below,  but  it  was  fat 
an'  green  up  above,  an'  the  ponies  felt  fine.  We  had  picked 
out  good  ones,  an'  it  took  some  time  to  get  'em  wore  down 
to  where  they  was  willin'  to  pack;  but  by  seven  o'clock 
we  were  ready  to  start,  an'  then  Tank  lifted  Horace  into  the 
saddle,  while  I  held  the  pony's  head.  We  had  chose  a  steady 
old  feller  for  Horace,  because  we  did  n't  want  any  serious 
accidents.  Ol'  Cast  Steel  was  dead  again'  sheepin'  the  East- 
eners,  an'  I  knew  they  'd  be  doin's  about  what  we  'd  done 
already,  let  alone  havin'  any  sort  of  a  mishap. 

We  told  Horace  just  what  to  do  to  save  himself,  an'  we 
fixed  his  stirrups  to  just  fit  him ;  but  he  took  it  purty  hard. 
It  takes  a  ridin'-man  a  couple  o'  weeks  to  harden  up  after 
he  's  laid  off  a  spell ;  but  when  a  man  begins  to  do  his  first 
ridin'  at  forty,  it  comes  ex-tremely  awkward.  Horace  was 
the  first  feller  I  ever  saw  get  sea-sick  on  hossback;  but  he 
certainly  did  have  a  bad  attack.  I  suppose  it  was  the  best 
thing  'at  could  have  happened  to  him,  an'  after  he  was 
emptied  out,  he  rode  some  easier.  We  only  covered  about 
thirty  miles  that  day  altogether,  an'  Tank  had  plenty  o'  time 
to  get  all  the  sleep  he  could  use;  but  when  he  came  to  lift 
Horace  down  from  the  saddle,  Horace  could  n't  make  his 
legs  stiff  enough  to  stand  on. 

We  let  him  stretch  out  while  we  were  makin'  camp;  but 
he  fell  asleep,  so  we  had  to  wake  him  up  to  help  get  supper. 


86  FRIAR    TUCK 

I 

I  was  beginnin'  to  feel  sorry  for  him,  but  he  had  pestered  us 
regardless  about  his  nerves,  an'  I  knew  'at  pity  for  him 
now  would  be  the  worse  for  him  in  the  long  run. 

After  supper,  Horace  spent  consid'able  time  in  bewailin' 
his  fate  because  he  had  got  disgusted  an'  thrown  his  whole 
box  o'  cigars  into  the  fire.  "  I  've  got  an  extra  pipe,  if  you  'd 
like  to  try  that,"  sez  Tank.  "  It 's  lots  better  for  the  nerves 
than  cigars  —  though  from  what  I  can  tell  o'  you,  you  ain't 
bothered  much  with  nerves.  I  wish  to  glory  I  was  in  your 
skin." 

"  Oh,  man,"  sez  Horace,  "  you  can't  imagine  how  I  suffer. 
I  ache  like  a  sore  tooth  all  over,  an'  it  gives  me  a  cute  pain 
just  to  sit  here  on  the  grass." 

"  Sit  on  the  saddle-blankets,"  sez  Tank,  sympathetic.  As 
soon  as  Horace  had  piled  up  the  blankets  an'  sat  down  on 
'em,  groanin'  most  bitter,  Tank  sez  with  feelin' :  "  Gee,  how 
I  envy  you.  You  have  nothin'  but  a  few  muscle-aches  and 
chafed  skin  an'  such,  while  my  nerves  is  beginnin'  to 
threaten  me  again.  I  'm  not  goin'  to  bother  either  o'  you 
fellers,  though.  I  'm  goin'  to  have  you  tie  me  to  a  tree  to- 
night if  I  can't  sleep." 

Horace  filled  the  pipe,  which  was  an  ancient  one,  bitter 
as  gall ;  but  when  he  began  to  smoke,  his  face  became  almost 
satisfied.  The  pipe  was  purty  well  choked  up,  so  that  he  had 
some  bother  in  keepin'  it  goin',  but  after  we'd  run  a  grass 
stem  through  it,  it  worked  purty  well,  an'  we  was  right 
sociable  until  along  about  nine  o'clock,  when  I  got  sleepy, 
myself.  Then  Tank  began  to  worry  about  his  nerves. 
Horace  had  about  forgot  his  own  nerves,  he  was  sufrerin' 
so  from  Tank's. 

When  we  see  that  Horace  could  n't  keep  awake  any  longer 
without  bein'  tortured,  Tank  began  to  carry  on  fiercer.  He 


TREATING    THE    CASE  87 

rumpled  up  his  hair,  gave  starts  an'  jerks,  but  the  thing-  'at 
worked  best,  was  just  to  sit  an'  look  at  his  fingers,  an'  pick 
at  'em.  He  'd  form  a  circle  with  his  left  thumb  and  fore- 
finger, then  poke  his  right  finger  through  this  circle  and  try 
to  grab  it  with  his  right  hand  before  it  could  back  out.  It 
was  the  craziest  thing  I  'd  ever  seen ;  but  before  long  Horace 
got  to  tryin'  it  himself.  While  Tank  was  lookin'  at  his 
fingers  with  his  good  eye,  the  free  one  rambled  around,  an' 
half  the  time  it  rested  on  Horace,  an'  fair  gave  him  the 
creeps ;  but  when  I  could  n't  stay  awake  myself,  I  gave 
Tank  the  sign,  an'  he  got  delirious. 

"  I  can't  sleep,"  he  wailed,  "  I  can't  sleep !  My  nerves, 
oh,  my  nerves !  One  minute  they  're  like  hot  wires,  an'  the 
next  they  're  like  streaks  of  ice.  You  '11  have  to  tie  me  up, 
boys,  you  certainly  will  have  to  tie  me  up." 

I  argued  again'  it  as  bein'  inhuman ;  but  Tank  begged  so 
that  finally  I  gave  in,  an'  we  tied  him  to  a  down  pine  tree. 
Horace  helped  to  tie  him,  an'  he  sure  did  his  best  to  make 
a  good  job  of  it.  I  was  a  little  doubtful,  myself,  about 
Tank  gettin'  loose;  but  he  had  blowed  up  his  muscles,  an' 
he  coughed  me  the  all-right  signal,  so  me  an'  Horace 
turned  in. 

Horace  groaned  consid'able  while  stretchin'  out;  but  he 
began  to  snore  before  I  had  got  through  findin'  the  soft 
place.  When  I  first  go  to  bed,  I  like  to  roll  about  a  bit,  an' 
stretch,  an'  loosen  up  my  muscles  —  I  like  to  stay  awake 
long  enough  to  feel  the  tired  spots  sink  down  again'  the 
earth,  an'  sort  o'  ooze  into  it ;  and  before  I  had  drifted  off, 
Horace  was  buzzin'  away  at  a  log  in  great  shape. 

I  must  'a'  slept  an  hour  when  I  was  wakened  by  a  bright 
light,  an'  lookin'  out,  I  saw  Tank  Williams  standin'  with 
his  back  to  the  fire  an'  glowerin'  down  at  Horace.  "  As  soon 


88  FRIAR    TUCK 

as  this  log  burns  off,  I  'm  goin'  to  get  you,"  sez  Tank  between 
set  teeth. 

"  What  are  you  goin'  to  get  me  for  ? "  asked  Horace. 
"  You  asked  me  to  tie  you  to  it.  I  did  n't  want  to  tie  you 
to  it,  but  you  insisted.  I  '11  untie  you  if  you  want  me  to, 
and  rub  your  brow  again." 

"  It 's  too  late,"  muttered  Tank.  "  It 's  too  infernal  late. 
Nothin'  could  put  me  to  sleep  now.  As  soon  as  this  log 
burns  off,  I  'm  goin'  to  get  you.  You  was  the  one  which 
brought  back  my  nerve  trouble,  an'  you  are  the  one  what 
has  to  suffer." 

Tank  had  n't  been  able  to  free  himself  from  the  pine  tree ; 
so  he  had  dragged  it  in  an'  across  the  fire.  It  was  n't  such 
a  big  one  as  trees  go;  but  it  was  a  mighty  big  one  for  a 
man,  tied  to  it  as  he  was,  to  tote  along.  Horace  reasoned 
with  him  a  while  longer,  an'  then  when  he  saw  that  the 
trunk  was  about  burned  through,  he  got  purty  well  off  to 
one  side,  an'  threw  a  chunk  at  me.  I  popped  out  of  bed  on 
the  instant,  an'  began  to  shoot  about  promiscuous;  so  as 
to  live  up  to  my  reputation. 

When  I  'd  emptied  my  gun,  I  looked  at  Tank,  as  though 
seein'  him  for  the  first  time,  an'  sez :  "  What  in  thunder 
da  you  mean,  by  raisin'  all  this  havoc  ?  " 

"  My  nerves,"  sez  Tank,  "  my  pore  nerves.  I  can't  sleep, 
an'  I  can't  keep  my  senses  if  I  'm  left  tied  to  this  tree  any 
longer.  It 's  all  his  fault,  an'  as  soon  as  this  log  burns  up, 
I  'm  goin'  ta  hunt  him  down." 

Tank  an'  I  argued  fierce  as  long  as  we  could  think  of  any- 
thing to  say;  an'  just  as  the  dead  pine  was  gettin'  too  hot 
for  Tank  to  stand  it  any  longer,  Horace  calls  in  from  the 
darkness,  "  Don't  you  want  me  to  rub  your  brow  a  while 
an'  see  if  that  won't  put  you  to  sleep  ?  " 


TREATING    THE    CASE  89 

"  Come  in  here,"  I  sez,  cross.  "  This  man  is  liable  to  kill 
himself,  an'  you  know  more  about  nerves  'n  I  do." 

Horace  crawled  out  from  behind  a  big  rock,  came  in, 
shiverin'  with  the  cold;  an'  we  untied  Tank  from  the  log. 
He  had  managed  to  get  his  feet  loose;  but  his  hands  had 
been  tied  behind  him  an'  when  they  got  cold,  he  could  n't 
make  a  go  of  it.  "  Well,"  sez  I,  as  soon  as  Tank  was  free, 
"  what  are  you  goin'  to  do  now  ?  " 

"  I  move  we  get  up  the  hosses,  an'  start  at  once,"  sez 
Tank.  "  I  don't  trust  myself  any  longer,  an'  we  can  ride 
faster  at  night.  My  one  hope,  is  to  get  to  an  Injun  doctor, 
or  else  get  so  tired  out  that  I  can  fall  into  a  dreamless 
sleep." 

"  Why  don't  you  ride  alone  ?  "  demanded  Horace  with  a 
sudden  burst  of  intelligence.  "  Why  don't  you  ride  alone ; 
an'  then  you  could  ride  as  fast  as  you  wanted  to,  an'  if  you 
found  the  Injuns  out  o'  humor,  you  could  come  back  an' 
let  us  know." 

This  set  us  back  for  a  minute:  we  had  been  playin' 
Horace  for  bein'  utterly  thought-loose;  but  he  had  figured 
out  the  best  plan  the'  was,  an'  his  eyes  were  bright  an'  eager. 

"  Take  the  hoss  that 's  fastened  on  the  rope  here,"  Horace 
went  on ;  "  an'  we  can  take  the  manacled  hosses  in  the 
mornin'  and  foller  ya.  Yes,  that 's  the  best  plan." 

You  see  the  fact  was,  we  were  only  twenty  or  twenty- 
five  miles  from  the  ranch  house.  We  had  been  circlin'  an' 
zig-zaggin'  through  the  hills,  an'  at  night  we  hung  up 
Horace's  pony  on  a  picket  an'  put  hobbles  on  the  balance. 
Bein'  fooled  on  direction  was  n't  any  sign  of  Horace  bein'  a 
complete  lunkhead ;  I  've  known  a  heap  o'  wise  ones  get 
balled  up  in  the  mountains. 

Tank  stood  puzzlin'  over  it  with  his  free  eye  trottin'  about 


90  FRIAR    TUCK 

in  a  circle ;  but  he  could  n't  think  any  way  out  of  it.  "  All 
right,"  sez  he,  "  if  you  two  can  get  along  without  me,  why, 
I  '11  risk  my  life  by  bein'  a  scout." 

"Nonsense,"  sez  Horace;  "the  Injuns  haven't  riz  for 
years,  an'  they  're  not  likely  to  again." 

Tank  only  winked  his  lookin'  eye,  an'  proceeded  to  fling 
the  saddle  on  the  picketed  hoss.  Horace  was  smilin'  purty 
contented  with  himself,  until  I  sez :  "  Which  hoss  are  you 
goin'  to  ride  to-morrow,  Mr.  Bradford?" 

Then  his  face  went  blank  as  he  recalled  the  blow-up  we  'd 
had  that  mornin'  gettin'  the  pack  ponies  contented  with  their 
loads.  "  By  Jove,  I  can't  ride  any  of  them !  "  he  exclaims. 
"  It  would  kill  me  to  have  a  hoss  buck  with  me.  I  'm  so  sore 
now  I  can  hardly  move." 

"  You  don't  look  as  nervous  as  you  did,  though,"  I  sez  to 
him  for  comfort 

He  did  n't  pay  me  no  heed.  "  Here,  Williams,"  he  calls, 
"  you  can't  take  that  hoss.  He 's  the  only  one  I  can  ride, 
and  you  '11  have  to  catch  another." 

"  You  ort  have  thought  o'  that  before,"  sez  Tank,  goin' 
on  with  his  arrangements,  but  movin'  slow. 

"  Well,  you  two  straighten  it  out  among  yourselves,"  sez 
I.  "  I  'm  goin'  back  to  bed.  No  wonder  you  're  nervous. 
It  would  make  a  saw-horse  nervous  to  jibe  around  the  way 
you  two  do." 

I  went  off  grumblin',  an'  I  went  to  sleep  before  they  settled 
it;  but  Tank  stretched  it  out  as  much  as  he  could,  an' 
Horace  did  n't  oversleep  any  that  night.  Next  mornin' 
when  I  looked  out,  I  saw  him  tied  up  with  his  back  again' 
a  tree,  an'  Tank's  head  in  his  lap.  He  was  swathed  in  his 
slicker  an'  saddle-blanket  to  keep  warm,  an'  was  sound 
asleep.  He  looked  purty  well  hammered  out,  but  hanged  if 


TREATING    THE    CASE  91 

he  did  n't  look  a  lot  more  worth  while  'n  he  did  when  he 
started  to  take  my  treatment. 

It  seemed  a  shame  to  do  it,  as  it  was  just  gettin'  into  the 
gray;  but  I  woke  him  up,  an'  asked  him  in  a  whisper  what 
he  was  doin'.  He  sat  an'  blinked  at  me  for  a  full  minute 
before  he  remembered  what  or  where  he  was,  an'  then  he 
told  me  that  he  finally  induced  Tank  to  try  havin'  his  head 
rubbed  again,  by  lettin'  Tank  truss  him  up  so  he  couldn't 
keel  over  on  him.  "  Gee,  but  I  'm  cold  an'  stiff,"  he  sez  in 
a  husky,  raspin'  voice.  "  I  don't  see  how  it  can  be  so  hot 
daytimes,  an'  so  cold  nights." 

"  This  '11  do  you  a  world  of  good,  Mr.  Bradford,"  sez  I. 
"  You  see,  you  swell  up  with  the  heat  daytimes,  an'  crimp 
down  with  the  cold  nights ;  an'  this  will  goad  on  your  circu- 
lation, fry  the  lard  out  o'  ya,  an'  give  your  nerves  a  chance 
to  get  toned  up."  I  quoted  from  the  patent  medicine  alma- 
nac occasional,  just  so  he  would  n't  forget  he  was  takin' 
treatment. 

"  I  can't  possibly  ride,  to-day,"  he  sez,  shakin'  his  head. 
"  Honest,  I  'm  in  agony." 

"  That 's  just  'cause  you  're  stiff,"  sez  I,  kindly.  "  That  '11 
all  wear  off  when  the  sun  softens  up  your  joint-oil.  Why, 
man,  you  '11  look  back  on  this  trip  as  one  o'  the  brightest 
spots  in  your  whole  life." 

"  I  got  hit  in  the  back  o'  the  head  with  a  golf  ball  once," 
he  flares  back  real  angry ;  "  an'  that  showed  me  a  lot  o' 
brightness,  too.  I  don't  want  no  more  brightness,  an'  I 
don't  intend  to  ride  to-day." 

I  was  especial  pleased  at  the  human  traits  he  was  dis- 
playin'.  He  had  n't  acted  so  healthy  an'  natural  since  he  'd 
been  with  us,  an'  I  was  encouraged  to  keep  on  with  the  treat- 
ment. "  You  will  have  to  ride  with  us,  even  if  we  have  to 


92  FRIAR    TUCK 

tie  you  on,"  I  sez.  "  We  are  now  close  to  the  Injun  country, 
an'  we  're  responsible  for  you.  O'  course  the'  ain't  any 
danger  from  regular  war  parties;  but  Injun  boys  is  just  as 
full  o'  devilment  as  white  boys,  an'  they  haven't  as  many 
safety  valves.  They  're  all  the  time  sneakin'  off  an'  playin'  at 
war,  an'  they  play  a  purty  stiff  game,  too,  believe  me.  If 
a  dozen  o'  these  young  bucks,  eighteen  or  twenty  years  old, 
was  to  stalk  us,  they  'd  try  most  earnest  to  lift  our  hair." 

"  I  'd  as  soon  be  killed  one  way  as  another,"  he  sez.  "  I 
can't  stand  it  to  ride,  an'  that 's  all  the'  is  to  it." 

Here  was  a  queer  thing :  the  little  cuss  actually  was  n't 
af eared  of  Injuns,  which  I  had  counted  on  as  my  big  card. 
Nerves  or  no  nerves,  Horace  Walpole  Bradford  was  n't  no 
coward;  'cause  we  are  all  afeared  o'  crazy  folks,  an'  he 
thought  Tank  was  crazy.  If  Tank  had  had  two  good  eyes, 
chances  are  he  would  n't  'a'  feared  him ;  so  I  kicked  Tank 
in  the  side  an'  woke  him  up. 


INJUNS! 

WELL,  we  sure  had  a  hard  time  gettin'  Horace  in  the  saddle 
that  day.  He  was  some  like  a  burro,  small  but  strong  minded. 
Finally  he  agreed  to  try  it  if  we  would  put  the  saddle- 
blanket  on  top  the  saddle  instead  of  underneath. 

"  The  hoss  don't  need  it  as  bad  as  I  do,"  sez  he ;  "  'cause 
he  's  covered  all  over  with  hoss-hide  an'  has  hair  for  paddin' 
besides ;  and  furthermore,  the  saddle  is  lined  with  sheepskin 
underneath,  while  it 's  as  hard  as  iron  on  top ;  and  I  'm  just 
like  a  boil  wherever  I  touch  it." 

We  told  him  that  a  hard  saddle  was  lots  the  easiest  as 
soon  as  a  feller  got  used  to  it ;  but  he  broke  in  an'  said  he 
did  n't  expect  to  live  that  long,  an'  that  we  could  take  our 
choice  of  leavin'  him,  or  puttin'  the  saddle-blanket  on  top. 
The's  lots  of  folks  with  the  notion  that  a  soft  saddle  or  a 
soft  chair  or  a  soft  bed  is  the  easiest ;  an'  it  ain't  much  use 
to  argue  with  'em,  though  the  truth  is,  that  if  a  feller  lived 
on  goslin'  down,  he  'd  get  stuck  with  a  pinf  eather  some  day 
an'  die  o'  loss  of  blood ;  while  if  he  lived  on  jagged  stones, 
he  'd  finally  wear  into  'em  until  he  had  a  smooth,  perfect 
fittin'  mold  for  his  body.  Still,  the  truth  is  only  the  truth 
to  them  'at  can  see  it;  so  we  put  the  blanket  on  top,  an' 
perched  Horace  astride  it. 

He  stood  it  two  hours,  an'  then  said  it  was  stretchin'  his 
legs  so  'at  he  was  af eared  a  sudden  jerk  would  split  him  to 
the  chin ;  an'  then  we  put  the  saddle  on  right,  an'  he  found 


94  FRIAR    TUCK 

it  full  as  easy  as  it  had  been  the  day  before.  The  best  way, 
an'  the  easiest  an'  the  quickest,  to  toughen  up,  is  just  to 
toughen  up.  The  human  body  can  stand  almost  anything 
in  the  way  o'  hardship.  After  it  has  sent  up  word,  hour 
after  hour,  that  it  is  bein'  hurt,  an'  no  attention  gets  paid 
to  it,  why,  it  sets  to  work  to  remedy  things  on  its  own  hook. 
In  order  to  ride  comfortable,  a  lot  of  muscles  have  to  loosen 
an'  stretch.  Most  o'  the  pain  in  ridin'  comes  from  ridin' 
with  set  muscles.  A  feller  can't  balance  easy  with  set 
muscles,  it 's  just  one  strainin'  jerk  after  another,  an'  the 
trick  b'  ridin'  is  to  move  with  the  horse.  Just  as  soon  as  ya 
get  to  goin'  right  along  with  the  hoss,  loose  an'  rubbery,  you 
take  the  strain  off  o'  both  you  an'  him ;  but  while  you  're 
bumpin'  again'  him,  it 's  painful  for  both. 

We  rode  about  forty  miles  that  day ;  and  at  the  end  of  it 
Horace  was  n't  complainin'  any  worse  'n  at  the  start.  Well, 
he  could  n't,  as  far  as  that  goes ;  but  his  body  had  already 
begun  to  find  the  motion  o'  the  hoss.  Of  course  he  had  n't 
learned  to  balance,  an'  he  still  rode  rigid ;  but  we  had  give 
him  an  easy-gaited  old  hammock,  an'  when  we  drew  up  to 
make  camp,  he  sat  on  his  hoss  without  holdin'  to  the  horn, 
an'  said  he  was  beginnin'  to  like  it.  When  Tank  lifted  him 
down,  though,  his  legs  wobbled  under  him  like  rubber  an' 
he  squashed  down  in  a  heap,  groanin'.  We  let  him  sleep 
where  he  lit  while  we  were  gettin'  supper;  'cause  we  was 
sure  he  would  need  it  before  mornin'.  He  was  n't  nervous 
any  longer;  all  he  wanted  was  food,  sleep,  an'  a  lung  full 
o'  tobacco  smoke.  I  felt  rather  proud  o'  my  treatment. 

Tank  had  to  boot  him  about  purty  freely  to  waken  him 
up  enough  to  take  his  vittles ;  but  he  took  a  good  lot  of  'em, 
an'  I  was  glad  of  it,  'cause  this  was  the  night  the  Injuns 
were  goin'  to  attack  us,  an'  he  was  n't  scheduled  to  have  any 


INJUNS!  95 

more  solid  nourishment  until  we  got  back  to  the  ranch 
house.  After  supper  he  went  to  his  pipe  like  a  young  duck 
to  a  puddle  o'  water.  He  had  n't  learned  to  handle  his  mois- 
ture while  smokin'  a  pipe,  an'  when  the  pipe  began  to  gargle, 
he  muttered  a  little  cuss-word  under  his  breath.  H.  Walpole 
Bradford  was  comin'  out  wonderful. 

The  stiffenin'  had  all  blew  out  o'  the  rim  of  his  hat,  givin' 
the  sun  full  swing  at  him,  an'  his  nose  looked  like  a  weakly 
tomato  flung  in  a  bed  o'  geraniums.  He  had  wrinkled  up  his 
face  around  where  his  glasses  fit,  an'  now  with  the  sun  gone 
down  his  skin  had  loosened  up  again,  showin'  the  unburned 
wrinkles  like  painted  marks.  He  sure  did  look  tough!  He 
was  wearin'  a  gray  suit  with  a  belt  around  the  middle  an' 
canvas  leggins. 

Along  about  nine  o'clock  he  nodded  over  into  the  fire,  right 
at  the  most  excitin'  part  of  an  Injun  tale  which  Tank  was 
makin'  up  for  his  especial  benefit.  We  fished  him  out  an' 
shook  him  awake;  but  he  came  to  as  cross  as  a  hornet,  an' 
swore  he  was  goin'  to  sleep  right  where  he  was  with  all  his 
clothes  on. 

"  You  're  a  wise  pigeon  to  sleep  with  your  clothes  on, 
to-night,"  sez  Tank ;  "  'cause  this  is  the  Injun  country, 
an'  ya  can't  tell  what  '11  happen ;  but  the  best  plan  for  us  to 
do  is  to  divide  up  an'  keep  watch  durin'  the  night." 

"Keep  watch!"  yells  Horace,  glarin'  at  Tank.  "I 
wouldn't  keep  watch  to-night  if  I  was  bound  to  a  torture 
stake.  You  can  keep  watch  if  you  want  to  —  an'  it  would  n't 
discommode  you  no  more  'n  if  you  was  an  owl.  Your  dog- 
gone, doubly  condemned  nerves  won't  let  you  nor  any  one 
else  sleep  —  but  I  'm  goin'  to  get  some  rest  if  I  die  for  it." 

"  You  're  a  nice  one,  you  are !  "  sez  Tank.  "  This  here 
expedition  was  got  up  just  on  account  o'  your  nerves,  an' 


96  FRIAR    TUCK 

now  that  we've  come  to  the  most  important  point  of  all, 
why,  you  flam  out  an'  put  all  the  risk  on  us." 

"  You  make  me  tired,"  sez  Horace,  scowlin'  at  Tank  as 
fierce  as  a  cornered  mouse.  "If  you  're  so  everlastin'  feared 
o'  the  Injuns  —  what  ya  got  this  bloomin'  fire  for?  " 

"  We  don't  intend  to  sleep  near  the  fire,  Mr.  Bradford," 
sez  I,  soothin'.  "  We  intend  to  roll  up  our  beds  like  as  if  we 
was  in  'em  an'  then  sneak  off  into  the  bushes  an'  sleep. 
We  don't  want  any  trouble  if  we  can  avoid  it.  If  you  '11 
notice,  you  '11  see  we  have  n't  turned  the  hosses  out  to-night." 

"  These  here  Injuns  is  livin'  on  a  reservation,"  sez  he, 
"  an'  I  don't  believe  'at  they  'd  dare  outrage  us." 

I  was  indignant  with  the  little  cuss  for  not  bein'  afeared 
of  Injuns.  My  theory  was,  'at  nerves  was  a  lot  like  hosses : 
keep  a  hoss  shut  up  an'  he  '11  get  bad  an'  kick  an'  raise  Cain ; 
but  take  him  out  an'  ride  his  hide  loose,  an'  he  '11  simmer 
down  consid'able.  I  wanted  to  give  Horace's  nerves  such  a 
complete  stringin'  out  that  they  would  n't  worry  him  any 
more  for  a  year;  an'  here  he  was,  not  carin'  a  hang  for 
Injuns.  "  Beliefs  is  all  right  to  the  believers,"  sez  I,  stiff- 
enin'  up ;  "  but  facts  is  facts  whether  you  believe  in  'em  or 
not.  Every  Injun  outrage  since  the  Civil  War  was  planned 
on  a  reservation,  an'  we  can't  take  no  chances." 

While  he  was  studyin'  over  this  with  a  pouty  look  on  his 
face,  Tank  sez :  "  It 's  time  we  fixed  up  an'  moved  out  into 
the  dark  " ;  so  we  put  rolls  o'  brush  in  the  beds,  an'  went 
on  up  the  side  o'  the  rise  where  the'  was  a  level  spot  I  knew 
of,  Horace  stumblin'  an'  grumblin'  every  step  o'  the  way. 
We  were  about  two  hundred  yards  from  the  fire  an'  it  looked 
cozy  an'  cheerful,  dancin'  away  beside  the  tarps.  I  was 
half  a  mind  to  join  in  with  Horace,  an'  go  on  back ;  but  our 
plans  were  all  laid,  an'  besides,  I  had  a  little  bet  up  with 


INJUNS!  97 

Spider  Kelley,  that  I  'd  return  Horace  in  such  fine  condition 
that  he  'd  be  willin'  to  drink  blood  or  milk  a  cow  calf-fashion. 

"You  go  to  sleep  first,"  sez  Tank  to  Horace;  "I'll 
watch  till  I  get  sleepy  an'  then  I  '11  call  Happy,  he  '11  watch 
two  hours,  an'  if  it  ain't  dawn  by  that  time,  he  '11  call  you. 
I  may  not  get  sleepy  at  all,  but  you  know  how  nerves  is. 
I  stayed  awake  ninety-six  hours  once,  an'  could  n't  get  a 
speck  sleepy.  Then  I  decided  to  stay  out  the  even  hundred 
an'  see  how  far  I  could  jump  after  stay  in'  awake  a  hundred 
hours.  I  went  to  sleep  in  ten  minutes  an'  did  n't  wake  up 
for  two  days  —  so  I  'm  liable  to  be  took  sleepy  to-night." 

We  had  brought  the  slickers  up,  an'  Horace  rolled  up  in 
one,  under  a  low  evergreen,  and  began  to  snore  in  half  a 
minute.  As  soon  as  he  had  got  to  wrastlin'  with  his  breath 
in  earnest,  I  went  to  the  head  o'  the  trail  an'  whistled  for 
Spider  Kelley.  He  an'  four  others  were  there,  an'  I  told  'em 
it  was  all  right  to  start  in  an  hour,  an'  then  I  came  back 
to  Horace  chucklin'.  Spider  enjoyed  anything  like  this, 
an'  he  had  fixed  up  the  boys  with  feathers  an'  fringe  an' 
smears  o'  chalk  an'  raspberry  jam,  till  they  looked  as  evil- 
minded  as  airy  Injuns  I  'd  ever  seen. 

We  set  Horace's  watch  ahead  five  hours.  Tank  curled 
up  an'  went  to  sleep,  an'  then  I  started  to  wake  Horace  up. 
It  took  so  long  to  get  him  to  consciousness  that  I  feared 
the  hour  would  be  up ;  but  he  finally  got  so  he  remembered 
what  he  was,  an'  then  I  told  him  not  to  make  any  fuss  if  he 
saw  any  Injuns,  but  to  just  wake  us  up.  I  tried  to  get 
him  to  take  one  o'  my  guns,  but  I  did  n't  wear  triggers  on 
'em  an'  he  did  n't  savvy  snap-shootin',  so  he  took  a  club  in 
his  hand  an'  started  to  parade. 

He  looked  at  his  watch  while  I  was  stretchin'  out  in  his 
warm  spot,  an'  he  looked  at  it  again  before  I  was  through 


98  FRIAR    TUCK 

loosenin'  up  my  muscles.  It  beats  the  world  how  slow  time 
crawls  to  a  man  on  watch.  I  was  sleepy  myself,  but  I  'd 
have  bit  out  my  tongue  before  I  'd  have  give  in.  I  lay  half 
on  my  right  side  with  my  hat  drawn  down,  watchin'  Horace. 
After  about  ten  minutes,  he  pulled  out  his  watch  again  an' 
looked  at  it.  He  pulled  out  the  snap  to  set  it  ahead,  in  order 
to  fool  us,  but  he  was  troubled  with  too  much  morality,  so 
he  snapped  it  shut  an'  spoke  to  himself  between  his  set 
teeth  for  several  moments. 

I  reckon  he  must  have  kept  on  his  feet  for  twenty  minutes, 
an'  then  he  settled  down  with  his  face  to  the  fire,  which  I 
had  fed  up  on  my  way  back  from  seein'  Spider,  an'  said 
loud  enough  for  me  to  hear :  "  This  is  all  damn  foolishness." 

He  said  it  so  slow  an'  solemn  an'  earnest,  that  I  purt  nigh 
choked;  but  I  kept  still,  he  kept  still,  an'  the  fire  kept 
dancin'  before  him.  His  breathin'  grew  deep  an'  steady, 
his  nerves  was  all  coiled  up  comfortable ;  and  tired  muscles 
don't  make  a  feller  wakeful.  Purty  soon  Horace  began 
to  gargle  his  palate,  an'  then  I  was  ready  for  Spider  Kelley. 

The  plan  was  for  him  to  come  up  close  so  as  to  entertain 
Horace  while  his  braves  sneaked  on  to  the  dummies  in  the 
tarps;  but  the'  was  no  occasion  for  sneakin'.  Horace  had 
turned  over  the  camp  to  fate,  an'  he  was  n't  worryin'  his 
head  about  what  was  goin'  to  happen  to  it. 

Finally,  Spider  got  disgusted  an'  he  went  down  an'  joined 
the  others,  an'  they  sure  raised  a  riot;  but  all  the  time, 
Horace  slumbered  on.  Spider  caught  up  our  hosses,  put 
our  saddles  an'  packs  on  'em,  threw  some  pieces  of  old 
canvas  he  brought  along  on  the  fire;  and  he  an'  the  rest 
raised  a  wild  warwhoop  and  galloped  away;  but  Horace 
was  too  busy  to  pay  any  attention.  Spider  an'  the  boys  had 
to  work  next  day,  an'  they  was  some  put  out  not  to  have  a 


INJUNS!  99 

little  more  fun  for  their  trouble.  It  was  all  Spider  could 
do  to  keep  'em  from  sneakin'  back  an'  kidnappin'  Horace, 
but  this  was  liable  to  give  the  whole  thing  away,  so  he 
talked  'em  out  of  it.  As  soon  as  the  noise  had  died  down, 
I  set  Horace's  watch  back  five  hours,  an'  then  I  went  to 
sleep  myself.  It  was  purty  chilly,  and  I  was  n't  quite  sure 
who  the  joke  was  on. 

When  Tank  woke  up,  he  started  in  on  Horace;  but  his 
noise  wakened  me  up  first.  When  Horace  saw  what  had 
happened  to  the  camp,  he  was  about  wordless;  but  after 
we  had  called  him  down  about  it  for  five  or  ten  minutes,  he 
flared  up  an'  talked  back  as  harsh  as  we  did.  He  said  'at 
he  had  kept  guard  for  over  three  hours,  fightin'  off  sleep  by 
walkin'  back  an'  forth ;  and  had  n't  sat  down  until  it  had 
started  to  lighten  in  the  sky.  He  stuck  to  this  tale,  and  I  'm 
sure  he  believed  it  himself.  He  'd  been  so  sleepy  the  night 
before  that  he  couldn't  have  told  a  dream  from  an  actual 
happenin',  so  when  he  began  to  get  excited,  we  dropped  it. 

"  All  right,"  sez  Tank  at  last ;  "  you  Ve  put  us  into  a 
nice  fix,  but  the'  ain't  no  use  tryin'  to  pickle  yesterday. 
What  we  've  got  to  do  is  to  hoof  it  back,  an'  we  might  as 
well  begin.  We  're  in  a  nice  fix :  nothin'  to  eat,  not  a  single 
cabin  on  the  road  back,  an'  for  all  we  know  the's  a  pack 
of  Injuns  watchin'  us  this  blessid  moment." 

"  How  do  ya  know  it  was  Injuns?  "  sez  Horace. 

"  Look  there,  an'  there,  an'  there,"  sez  Tank,  pointin'  at 
moccasin  prints  an'  feathers.  "  Then  besides,  no  white  men 
would  'a'  burned  up  the  tarps." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  'at  we  got  to  walk  all  the  way 
back  ?  "  sez  Horace. 

"  All  the  way,  an'  without  no  grub,"  sez  Tank. 

Horace  sat  down  on  the  end  of  a  charred  log.     "  Well, 


ioo  FRIAR    TUCK 

I  '11  die  right  here,"  sez  he.  "  This  spot  suits  me  as  well  as 
any  other." 

"  You  don't  have  to  die  at  all,"  sez  I.  "  A  body  can  go 
forty  days  without  food,  an'  it  does  more  good  than  harm." 
Friar  Tuck  had  told  me  a  lot  about  fastin',  an'  I  was  keen 
to  try  it  out  on  Horace.  From  all  I  could  see  from  the 
theory  o'  fastin',  it  was  just  what  was  needed  for  Horace's 
nerves. 

"  Look  at  me,"  sez  Horace,  pullin'  at  the  waist  of  his 
clothes.  "  I  bet  I  've  lost  twenty  pounds  already,  on  this 
fool  trip.  Twenty  pounds  more  would  make  me  a  corpse, 
an'  I  'd  just  as  soon  be  made  one  here  as  anywhere.  As 
soon  as  I  rest  up  a  little,  I  'm  goin'  to  begin  to  yell  until  I 
draw  those  blame  Injuns  back,  an'  have  'em  finish  the  job 
in  short  order." 

He  was  n't  bluffin',  he  was  simply  desp'rit.  "  You  '11 
have  to  walk  with  us,"  sez  I ;  "  come  on." 

Tank  took  one  arm,  an'  I  took  the  other,  an'  we  started 
forth.  For  the  first  hour  he  hung  back,  and  then  he  began 
to  step  out  on  his  own  hook.  When  we  rested  at  noon,  he 
was  the  freshest  one  of  us.  Tank  an'  I  had  ridin'  boots,  an' 
ridin'  muscles;  while  he  had  walkin'  shoes,  an'  no  muscles 
at  all  worth  mentionin'.  "  I  can  play  at  this  game  as  well 
as  any  one,"  sez  Horace,  chewin'  a  blade  o'  grass,  an'  lookin' 
proud  of  himself. 

Tank  was  purty  well  fussed  up ;  he  was  n't  workin'  out 
any  theories,  he  had  just  come  along  to  help  pester  Horace 
an'  have  a  little  amusement ;  but  it  began  to  appear  to  him 
that  his  fun  was  comin'  high-priced. 

By  nightfall  we  was  all  tol'able  hungry ;  but  Horace  was 
so  set  up  over  bein'  able  to  put  over  a  full  day's  walk  on 
nothin'  to  eat  that  he  was  purty  speechy,  an'  it  was  nine 


INJUNS!  101 

o'clock  before  he  went  to  sleep.  As  soon  as  he  had  dropped 
off,  I  went  down  to  meet  Spider  Kelley  an'  get  the  grub  he 
had  brought  out  for  me  'n'  Tank.  He  said  'at  the  other  boys 
was  n't  braggin'  none  about  their  trip  the  night  before ;  but 
they  were  all  ready  to  roast  me  an'  Tank  as  soon  as  we  got 
in.  We  'd  had  it  fixed  that  Spider  an'  the  rest  was  to  take 
turns  worryin'  Horace  on  the  back  trip;  but  Spider  said 
that  it  looked  to  him  as  if  I  'd  win  the  bet  anyway,  so  he 
intended  to  play  neutral  from  that  on.  As  soon  as  me  an' 
Tank  had  eaten,  we  turned  in,  an'  all  of  us  slept  like  logs. 


CHAPTER   ELEVEN 

BENEFITS  OF   FASTING 

THE  next  day  Horace  walked  easier  'n  any  of  us.  Now  I  'm 
tellin'  this  to  ya  straight  'n'  you  can  believe  it  or  not  just 
as  ya  please ;  but  that  little  cuss  stepped  right  along,  began 
to  notice  the  scenery,  an'  even  cracked  a  few  jokes  now  an' 
again;  while  me  an'  Tank  just  plodded  with  our  minds 
fixed  on  the  meal  we  were  goin'  to  get  that  night.  Horace 
had  give  up  all  thought  o'  meals,  so  they  did  n't  pester  him 
any. 

At  the  end  of  the  third  day  Horace  had  lost  his  appetite 
complete.  Friar  Tuck  had  swore  that  hunger  did  n't  worry 
a  man  more  'n  three  days,  an'  sure  enough,  it  did  n't.  Horace 
did  n't  care  whether  he  ever  et  again  or  not.  He  'd  get  a 
little  dizzy  when  he  'd  start  out,  an'  once  in  a  while  he  'd 
feel  a  bit  fainty;  but  as  far  as  bein'  ravenous  went,  me  an 
Tank  had  him  beat  a  mile. 

"  Where  is  the  joke  o'  this  fool  trip  ?  "  growled  Tank  to 
me  on  the  evenin'  of  the  fourth  day  as  we  were  eatin'  the 
supper  Spider  Kelley  had  brought  out.  "  He  ain't  a  human 
at  all,  Horace  ain't ;  he  's  a  rep-tile,  an'  can  live  without 
food." 

Spider  was  tickled  a  lot,  and  said  he  did  n't  care  if  he 
did  lose  his  bet,  that  it  was  worth  it  to  find  how  everlastin' 
tough  a  little  half-hand  like  Horace  could  be  when  drove 
to  it.  I  'd  been  thinkin'  it  over  all  day,  but  I  did  n't  say 
anything. 


BENEFITS    OF    FASTING  103 

Friar  Tuck  had  said  it  was  a  question  of  will  power, 
more'n  anything  else:  that  if  a  man  just  held  his  thoughts 
away  from  food  it  wouldn't  bother  him;  but  if  he  kept 
thinkin'  of  it,  the  digestin'  juices  would  flow  into  his 
stomach  an'  make  him  think  he  was  starvin';  so  I  was 
minded  to  try  a  new  plan  next  day. 

"  Spider,"  I  sez,  "  you  put  a  cow  an'  calf  up  in  Nufty's 
Corral "  —  which  was  the  name  of  a  little  shut-in  park  we 
would  go  through  the  next  afternoon.  "  Put  'em  there  in 
the  mornin',  a  cow  with  an  off  brand,  if  you  can  find  one, 
an'  trim  their  hoofs  down  close,  so  they  won't  go  back  to 
the  bunch.  Remember  'at  we  're  on  foot,  an'  trim  'em  close 
enough  to  make  it  hurt  'em  to  walk.  I  'm  goin'  to  make 
Horace  hungry  if  I  can." 

"  I  hate  to  play  again'  him  and  my  own  bet,"  sez  Spider ; 
"  but  I  '11  have  the  cow  there,  just  to  see  what  you  're  up  to. 
If  you  're  goin'  to  butcher  it,  though,  I  don't  see  why  a 
young  steer  would  n't  be  better." 

"  I  '11  count  on  you  havin'  it  there,"  sez  I ;  an'  then  Spider 
rode  back  to  the  ranch  house,  an'  me  an'  Tank  went  to 
sleep. 

Next  mornin'  me  an'  Tank  put  the  catridges  out  of  our 
belts  into  our  pockets.  As  soon  as  we  started  to  walk  I 
began  to  talk  about  my  hunger,  an'  weakness,  an'  the  empty 
feelin'  in  my  head  an'  stomach.  At  first  Horace  did  n't  pay 
any  heed;  but  from  the  start,  ol'  Tank  Williams  caught 
every  symptom  I  suggested ;  until  I  feared  he  'd  curl  up  on 
the  trail  an'  die  o'  starvation.  Finally,  though,  Horace 
began  to  pay  heed  to  my  suggestions,  an'  to  sigh  an'  moan 
a  little.  What  finally  got  him  was  my  gnawin'  at  my  rope 
an'  gauntlet.  Tank  an'  I  had  saved  our  ropes,  'cause  we 
expected  to  have  need  of  'em;  and  when  noon  came  an' 


104  FRIAR    TUCK 

I  sat  with  a  stupid  look  in  my  face,  chewin'  first  the  rope, 
an'  then  the  wrist  o'  the  gauntlet,  Horace  began  to  have 
some  of  the  symptoms  I  was  fishin'  for.  Finally  he  bor- 
rowed one  o'  my  gauntlets,  an'  after  he  had  munched  on  it 
a  while,  he  was  as  hungry  as  any  one  could  wish. 

"  I  can't  go  another  peg,"  he  sez  when  I  got  up  to  start 
on  again. 

"How  does  that  come?"  I  asked  him.  "When  we 
stopped  to  rest  you  was  feelin'  more  chipper  'n  any  of  us." 

"  I  'm  dyin'  o'  hunger,"  he  replied,  solemn.  "I  've  got 
a  gnawin'  pain  in  my  stomach,  an'  I  'm  all  in.  I  fear  my 
stomach  is  punctured  or  stuck  together  or  somethin'." 

I  had  had  a  lot  o'  discussions  with  Friar  Tuck  about  the 
power  o'  suggestion;  but  I  had  never  took  much  stock  in 
it.  I  could  see  now,  though,  that  it  actually  did  work.  As 
long  as  Horace  was  tellin'  himself  that  everything  was  all 
right,  why,  it  was  all  right.  Then  when  I  suggested  'at  we 
were  dyin'  of  hunger,  why,  he  actually  began  to  die  of 
hunger;  an'  it  was  wonderful  to  see  the  change  in  him. 
He  showed  us  how  he  had  ganted  down ;  and  the  fact  was, 
his  bones  had  become  purty  prominent  without  any  help 
from  suggestin'.  He  did  n't  have  any  more  belly  'n  a  snake ; 
but  his  eyes  were  bright,  an'  his  skin  clear,  except  that  it 
was  peelin'  off  purty  splotchy,  from  sun-burn. 

We  finally  left  him  an'  started  on ;  and  after  we  'd  got 
some  distance,  he  staggered  after  us;  but  he  was  just  goin' 
on  his  nerve  now,  an'  not  gettin'  much  joy  out  of  existence. 

About  four  in  the  afternoon,  we  reached  Nufty's  Corral, 
a  fine  little  park  with  only  a  narrow  entrance  at  each  end. 
Horace  was  up  with  us  by  this  time,  an'  we  were  all  ploddin' 
along  head  down.  Suddenly  Horace  grabbed  us  by  the 
arms.  "  Hush !  "  he  sez. 


BENEFITS    OF    FASTING  105 

"  What 's  up  ?  "  sez  I,  lookin'  at  him. 

"  Look,"  he  whispers,  pointin'  at  the  cow  an'  calf ; 
"  there  's  food." 

We  drew  back  an'  consulted  about  it.  "  The  great  danger 
after  a  fast,"  I  sez  in  warnin',  "  lies  in  overeatin'.  All  we 
can  do  is  to  drink  a  little  blood  for  the  first  few  hours." 

"  Why  can't  we  broil  a  steak  over  some  coals  ? "  sez 
Horace. 

"  It  would  kill  us  to  eat  steak  now,"  sez  I. 

He  held  out  for  the  steak;  but  I  finally  sez  that  if  he 
won't  promise  to  be  temperate  an'  eat  only  what  I  tell  him, 
I  '11  drive  off  the  cow ;  and  then  he  comes  around,  and  agrees 
to  it. 

"  You  sneak  around  to  the  far  openin',  Tank,"  I  sez,  then 
I  pauses,  an'  looks  at  him  as  though  shocked.  "  Where 's 
your  catridges,  man  ?  "  I  asked. 

Tank  felt  of  his  belt,  and  seemed  plumb  beat  out,  then 
he  looked  at  mine,  an'  yelled,  "  Where  's  yours  ?  " 

We  both  sat  down  on  stones  an'  went  over  what  we  had 
done  every  minute  o'  the  time  since  we  had  started  out; 
until  Horace  became  frantic,  an'  sez :  "  What 's  the  difference 
what  became  of  'em  ?  Your  revolvers  are  loaded.  You  can 
sure  kill  one  cow  out  o'  twenty-four  shots." 

"  Twenty  shots,"  I  corrected.  "  We  allus  carry  the  ham- 
mer on  an  empty  chamber ;  an'  I  'm  so  bloomin'  weak  I 
doubt  if  I  could  hit  a  cow  in  ten  shots." 

Horace  turned  loose  an'  told  us  what  he  thought  of  us, 
an'  it  was  edifyin'  to  hearken  to  him  —  he  hit  the  nail  on 
the  head  so  often.  Finally  I  sez :  "  Well,  a  man  can  do  no 
more  than  try —  Go  ahead,  Tank,  but  don't  let  her  get 
by  you,  whatever  happens." 

The   cow,    which    was    a   homely   grade^whiteface   with 


io6  FRIAR    TUCK 

a  splotch  on  her  nose  which  made  it  look  as  if  most  of  the 
nose  had  been  cut  off,  stood  in  the  center  of  the  park,  an' 
she  was  beginnin'  to  get  uneasy,  although  the  wind  was 
from  her  way. 

As  soon  as  Tank  got  to  his  entrance  he  shot  in  the  air; 
an'  she  came  chargin'  down  on  me.  I  shot  over  her,  an' 
she  charged  back.  We  kept  this  up  until  Horace  lost  pa- 
tience an'  called  me  a  confounded  dub.  "  Here,"  sez  I, 
"  the's  two  catridges  left.  You  fire  'em,  I  won't." 

At  first  he  refused,  but  he  was  desperate,  and  finally  after 
I  'd  told  him  to  use  both  hands,  he  took  a  shot.  The  cow 
was  standin'  closest  to  us,  but  lookin'  Tank's  way,  an' 
Horace  nicked  her  in  the  ham.  Instead  of  chargin'  Tank, 
like  a  sensible  cow,  she  came  for  us  head  on.  Now,  when 
a  bull  charges,  he  picks  out  somethin'  to  steer  for,  then 
closes  his  eyes,  and  sets  sail;  but  a  cow  keeps  her  eyes 
open,  an'  she  don't  aim  to  waste  any  plunges  either.  Horace 
stood  out  in  the  center  of  the  entrance  an'  banged  away 
again,  strikin'  the  ground  about  ten  feet  in  front  of  him. 

"  Run !  "  I  yells  to  him,  jumpin'  back  behind  a  big  rock, 
"Run!" 

He  forgot  all  about  bein'  hungry,  an'  he  started  to  back- 
trail  like  a  scared  jack-rabbit.  The  cow  had  forgot  all  about 
havin'  had  her  hoofs  pared,  an'  she  took  after  him  like  a 
hungry  coyote.  As  she  passed  me,  I  roped  her,  took  a 
snub  around  the  rock,  an'  flopped  her ;  but  she  did  just  what 
I  thought  she  'd  do  —  rolled  to  her  feet  an'  took  after  me. 
She  was  angry.  I  'd  have  given  right  smart  for  a  tough 
little  pony  between  my  knees. 

The  rock  was  too  big  to  get  a  half  hitch  over,  so  I  just 
ran  at  right  angles  from  her,  hopin'  to  stretch  out  more 
rope  'n  she  could  cover.  I  did  it  by  a  few  feet ;  but  she 


The  cow  had  forgot  all  about  havin'  had  her  hoofs  pared,  an'  she 
took  after  him  like  a  hungry  coyote 

See  page  106 


BENEFITS    OF    FASTING  107 

swung  around  into  my  rope  head  on,  an'  this  flung  me  up 
again'  her  side.  I  managed  to  hang  on  to  the  rope,  how- 
ever, an'  this  fixed  her,  'cause  she  'd  have  had  to  pull  that 
rock  over  before  she  could  'a'  come  any  farther.  Horace 
had  stopped  an'  was  gappin'  at  us  from  a  safe  distance ;  but 
Tank  arrived  by  this  time  an'  put  another  rope  on  her  an'  we 
had  her  cross-tied  between  two  big  rocks  by  the  time  Horace 
arrived. 

"  What  ya  goin'  to  kill  her  with  ? "  he  asked,  his  eyes 
dancin'  like  an  Injun's  at  the  beef  whack-up. 

"  My  catridges  are  all  gone,"  sez  Tank. 

"  Mine  too,"  sez  I. 

"  Can't  you  use  a  knife,  or  a  stone  ? "  sez  Horace,  the 
dude. 

"  You  can  try  it  if  you  want  to,"  sez  I ;  "  but  hanged  if 
I  will." 

He  took  a  big  stone  an'  walked  to  the  head  of  the  cow, 
but  his  nerve  gave  out,  an'  he  threw  down  the  stone.  "  What 
in  thunder  did  you  tie  her  up  for,  then  ?  "  sez  he. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  sez  I,  "  but  I  thought  perhaps  she 
might  be  a  little  vexed  with  you  on  account  o'  your  shootin' 
her  up.  She  was  headed  your  way." 

He  sat  down  on  a  stone  an'  looked  at  the  cow  resentful. 
Suddenly  his  face  lit  up.  "  Why  don't  you  milk  her?"  sez 
he.  "  We  can  live  on  milk  for  weeks." 

It 's  funny  how  much  alike  hungry  animals  look.  As 
Horace  sat  on  the  stone  with  his  anxious  face,  his  poppin' 
eyes,  his  mussed  up  side-burns,  an'  the  water  drippin'  from 
his  mouth  at  thought  o'  the  milk,  he  looked  so  much  like 
a  setter  pup  I  once  knew  that  it  was  all  I  could  do  to  hold 
a  straight  face. 

"  Do  you  know  how  to  milk,  Tank?"  I  sez. 


io8  FRIAR    TUCK 

"  I  don't,"  sez  Tank ;  "  nor  I  don't  know  what  it  tastes 
like." 

"  Go  ahead  an'  milk  her,  Mr.  Bradford,"  I  sez.  "  You  're 
the  only  one  what  knows  how  to  milk,  or  who  cares  to 
drink  it.  What  you  goin'  to  milk  it  in  ?  " 

"  I  never  milked  in  my  life,"  sez  he ;  "  but  I  saw  it  done 
once  when  I  was  a  boy,  an'  I  'm  goin'  to  try  to  milk  in  my 
hat." 

He  had  a  bad  time  of  it;  but  he  only  got  kicked  twice, 
an'  both  times  it  was  short,  glancin'  blows,  not  much  more  'n 
shoves.  Finally,  he  came  over  to  where  me  an'  Tank  was 
settin'  an'  flopped  himself  down  beside  us.  "  Can't  you 
strangle  her  with  those  ropes  ?  "  he  sez,  in  what  might  well 
be  called  deadly  earnest. 

We  shook  our  heads,  an'  continued  to  sit  there  lookin'  at 
the  cow  as  though  we  expected  she  'd  point  the  way  out  of 
our  trouble.  Presently  the  calf  remembered  his  own  appe- 
tite, an'  rushed  up  an'  gave  a  demonstration  of  what  neat 
an'  orderly  milkin'  was.  Horace  sighed.  "  Gee,  I  bet  that 's 
good,"  he  said,  the  water  drippin'  from  his  lips  again.  He 
had  been  four  days  without  food,  walkin'  all  that  time 
through  the  mountains,  sleepin'  out  doors  with  no  cover  but 
a  slicker ;  and  he  had  about  burned  up  all  his  waist  products, 
which  Friar  Tuck  said  was  a  city  man's  greatest  handicap. 
His  eyes  got  a  little  red  as  he  watched  the  calf,  an'  I  saw 
that  he  meant  to  slaughter  it ;  so  I  sez  to  him :  "  That 's 
the  way  to  milk,  Mr.  Bradford.  Why  don't  you  sneak- 
up  on  the  other  side  an'  try  it  that  way,  the  same  time  the 
calf  is?" 

He  studied  a  moment,  an'  then  shook  his  head.  "  No,  she 
could  tell  me  from  the  calf,"  he  said  sorrowful.  "  Our  fore- 
heads are  shaped  different,  an'  I  'd  have  to  get  down  on  my 


BENEFITS    OF    FASTING  109 

hands  and  knees.  She  'd  tell  me  in  a  minute,  an'  I  don't 
want  to  be  on  my  hands  an'  knees  when  she  kicks  me." 

"  We  could  throw  an'  hog-tie  her,"  sez  Tank ;  "  and  you 
could  get  it  easy  an'  comfortable.  Would  you  want  us  to 
do  that,  Mr.  Bradford  ?  " 

Horace  jumped  to  his  feet  an'  shook  his  fist  in  Tank's 
face.  "  Don't  call  me  Mister  again,"  he  yelled.  "  I  'm 
plumb  sick  of  it.  If  I  ever  live  to  get  another  bath  an' 
back  East  where  the's  food  in  plenty,  why,  I  '11  take  up 
the  Mister  again ;  but  now  that  I  've  got  to  a  point  where 
I  have  to  suck  milk  from  a  hog-tied  cow,  you  call  me  Horace, 
or  even  Dinky  —  which  was  my  nickname  at  school.  Yes, 
for  heaven's  sake,  tie  the  cow.  I  have  to  have  milk,  an' 
that 's  the  only  way  I  see  to  get  it." 

Well,  Tank  an'  I  was  so  full  o'  laugh  we  could  hardly  truss 
up  the  cow;  but  we  finally  got  her  on  her  back  so  'at  she 
could  n't  do  nothin'  but  snap  her  tail,  an'  then  Horace  threw 
his  hat  on  the  ground,  an'  started  in.  I  was  entirely  joyful : 
I  knew  'at  Spider  Kelley,  an'  as  many  o'  the  boys  as  could 
sneak  away,  were  watchin'  us  from  up  on  the  hill,  an'  this 
was  the  grand  triumph  of  my  treatment  for  nerves. 

Horace  approached  the  cow  with  consid'able  caution,  as 
she  was  in  an  awkward  position.  The  calf  had  been  inter- 
rupted in  his  meal,  before  he  had  squenched  his  thirst,  an' 
he  was  still  prospectin'  about  on  his  own  hook. 

"  Here,"  said  Horace,  givin'  him  a  push,  "  this  is  my 
turn." 

You  know  how  a  calf  is:  a  calf  ain't  afeared  o'  nothin' 
except  hunger.  Here  was  his  food-supply  bein'  robbed, 
right  when  he  was  needin'  it.  He  blatted  down  in  his  throat, 
an'  tried  to  nose  Horace  out  of  the  way.  Horace  was  findin' 
that  milk  the  best  stuff  he  had  ever  tasted,  an'  he  fought  off 


no  FRIAR    TUCK 

the  calf  with  his  right  hand,  while  he  steadied  himself  by 
puttin'  his  left  on  the  hind  leg  o'  the  calf's  mother,  an'  got 
a  nice  coat  o'  creamy  froth  in  his  side-burns.  He  was  so 
blame  hungry  he  did  n't  see  a  speck  o'  humor  in  it ;  but  me 
an'  Tank  nearly  died. 

"  Say,"  sez  Horace,  raisin'  his  head,  the  milk  drippin' 
from  his  lips,  "  can't  one  o'  you  fellers  fend  off  this  calf  till 
I  finish." 

Tank  held  the  calf  while  I  advised  Horace  to  be  temper- 
ate, an'  after  a  bit  he  gave  a  sigh  an'  said,  that  that  was  all 
he  could  hold  just  then,  but  not  to  let  the  cow  escape.  We 
loosened  her,  left  one  o'  the  ropes  on  for  a  drag  picket,  an' 
took  off  the  other.  She  was  purty  well  subdued;  but  we 
refused  to  give  Horace  any  more  milk  that  night,  an'  he 
went  to  sleep  before  we  had  a  fire  built.  Spider  Kelley  was 
wabblin'  with  laughter  when  he  brought  us  our  supper.  He 
had  been  the  only  one  who  could  stay  after  bringin'  up  the 
cow ;  but  he  said  he  would  n't  'a'  missed  it  for  three  jobs. 


CHAPTER   TWELVE 

A   COMPLETE  CURE 

NEXT  mornin'  we  fed  Horace  all  the  milk  he  could  hold,  an' 
tried  to  drive  the  cow  along  with  us ;  but  her  hoofs  had  been 
pared  so  thin  that  it  made  her  cross  an'  we  had  to  give  that 
projec'  up. 

"  How  far  are  we  from  the  ranch  house  ?  "  asked  Horace. 

"About  sixty  miles,"  sez  Tank. 

"  That 's  what  I  thought,"  sez  he.  "  Now,  I  can't  see  any 
sense  in  all  of  us  hoofin'  that  distance.  I  'd  go  if  I  knew 
the  way ;  but  one  of  you  could  go,  an'  the  other  stay  with  me 
an'  the  cow.  Then  the  one  which  went  could  bring  back  food 
on  the  buckboard,  and  it  would  be  as  good  as  if  we  all 
went." 

Now  this  was  a  fine  scheme ;  but  neither  Tank  nor  I  had 
thought  of  it.  We  had  intended  to  follow  our  own  windin' 
circle  back  every  step  o'  the  way;  but  when  the  milk  set 
Horace's  brain  to  pumpin',  he  fetched  up  this  idee  which 
saved  us  all  a  lot  o'  bother. 

"  I  shall  go  myself,"  sez  Tank ;  "  weak  as  I  am,  I  '11  go 
myself." 

It  was  only  about  fifteen  or  twenty  miles  by  the  short  cut, 
an'  this  would  get  him  back  to  regular  meals  in  short  order ; 
so  he  left  me  his  rope  an'  set  out.  Horace  helped  me  with 
the  cow  that  night,  an'  he  proved  purty  able  help.  He  was 
feelin'  fine,  an'  the  milk  had  filled  him  out  wonderful.  He 
said  he  had  n't  felt  so  rough  'n'  ready  for  twenty  years ;  but 


112  FRIAR    TUCK 

Spider  Kelle^  failed  to  arrive  with  my  meal  that  night,  and 
I  went  to  bed  feelin'  purty  well  disgusted.  Tank  had  met 
him  before  noon  that  day,  an'  he  had  gone  in  for  a  hoss; 
and  they  had  decided  that  it  would  be  a  good  stunt  to  give 
me  some  o'  my  own  treatment. 

Next  mornin'  I  felt  as  empty  as  a  balloon ;  so  after  Horace 
had  enjoyed  himself,  I  took  a  little  o'  the  same,  myself ;  but 
I  did  n't  take  it  like  he  did.  I  held  my  mouth  open  an' 
squirted  it  in,  an'  it  was  mighty  refreshin'. 

"  Huh,"  sez  Horace,  "  you  're  mightily  stuck  up.  The 
calf's  way  is  good  enough  for  me." 

"  I  got  a  split  lip,"  I  sez,  half  ashamed  o'  myself. 

They  left  us  there  three  days  to  allow  for  the  time  it 
would  have  taken  Tank  to  walk  if  it  had  been  as  far  as 
we  claimed  it  was;  and  then  Tillte  Dutch  drove  out  the 
buckboard.  He  said  'at  Spider  an'  Tank  had  quit  and  gone 
into  Boggs  for  a  little  recreation;  but  after  I  had  eaten 
my  first  meal  out  o'  the  grub  he  brought,  I  did  n't  bear 
'em  any  ill  will.  The  joke  was  on  me  as  much  as  it  was 
on  Horace ;  but  I  'd  'a'  gone  through  twice  as  much 
to  test  that  theory,  an'  I  'd  had  the  full  worth  o'  my  bother. 
Horace  was  a  new  man:  he  was  full  o'  vim  an'  snap,  an' 
he  gave  me  credit  for  it  an'  became  mighty  friendly  an' 
confidential. 

He  stood  up  in  the  buckboard  an'  made  a  farewell  speech 
to  the  cow  which  lasted  ten  minutes.  He  also  apologized 
to  the  calf,  an'  told  him  that  when  he  got  back  East,  he 
would  raise  his  hat  every  time  he  passed  a  milk  wagon. 
He  sure  felt  in  high  spirits,  and  made  up  a  ramblin'  sort  of 
a  song  which  lasted  all  the  way  back  to  the  house.  It  had 
the  handiest  tune  ever  invented  and  he  got  a  lot  o'  fun  out 
of  it.  It  began: 


A    COMPLETE    CURE  113 

"  Oh  we  walked  a  thousand  miles  without  eatin'  any  food, 
An'  then  we  met  a  cow  an'  calf,  an'  gee,  but  they  looked  good! 
Her  eyes  like  ancient  Juno's  were  so  in-o-cent  an'  mild, 
We  couldn't  bear -to  take  her  life,  we  only  robbed  her  child. 
She  strove  to  save  the  lactual  juice  to  feed  her  darling  boy; 
So  we  had  to  fling  her  on  her  back  to  fill  our  souls  with  joy. 
Now  Tank  an'  Happy  were  too  proud  to  compete  with  a  calf, 
So  they  sat  them  down  an'  dined  on  wind,  while  they  weakly  tried  to 

laugh. 

I  'm  but  a  simple-minded  cuss,  not  proud  like  one  of  these; 
So  I  filled  myself  so  full  of  milk,  I  'm  now  a  cottage  cheese." 


Horace  was  as  proud  o'  this  song  as  though  it  was  the 
first  one  ever  sung.  He  used  the  same  tune  on  it  that  blind 
men  on  corners  use.  I  reckon  that  tune  fits  most  any  sort 
of  a  song ;  it 's  more  like  the  "  Wearin'  of  the  Green  "  than 
anything  else  but  ten  times  sadder  an'  more  monotonous. 
He  said  he  had  once  wrote  a  Greek  song  at  college  but  it 
was  n't  a  patch  on  this  one,  and  had  n't  got  him  nothin' 
but  a  medal.  I  used  to  know  twelve  or  eighteen  verses,  but 
I  've  forgot  most  of  it.  It  was  a  hard  one  to  remember 
because  the  verses  was  n't  of  the  same  length.  Sometimes 
a  feller  would  have  to  stretch  a  word  all  out  of  shape  to 
make  it  cover  the  wave  o'  the  tune,  an'  sometimes  you  'd 
have  to  huddle  the  words  all  up  into  a  bunch.  Horace  said 
that  all  high  class  music  was  this  way;  but  it  made  it  lots 
more  bother  to  learn  than  hymns. 

The  verse  which  pleased  me  the  most  was  the  forty-third. 
Horace  himself  said  'at  this  was  about  as  good  as  any, 
though  he  liked  the  seventy-ninth  one  a  shade  better,  himself. 
The  forty-third  one  ran: 


"  A  cow-boy  does  not  live  on  milk,  that 's  all  a  boy-cow  '11  drink; 
But  the  cow-ma  loves  the  last  the  most,  which  seems  a  funny  think. 
I  do  not  care  for  milk  in  pans  with  yellow  scum  o'er-smeared. 
I  like  to  gather  mine  myself;  and  strain  it  through  my  beard." 


ii4  FRIAR    TUCK 

I  never  felt  better  over  anything  in  my  life  than  I  did 
over  returnin'  Horace  in  this  condition.  It  was  some  risk 
to  experiment  with  such  a  treatment  as  mine  on  a  feller  who 
regarded  himself  as  an  invalid;  but  here  he  was,  comin' 
back  solid  an'  hearty,  with  his  shape  shrunk  down  to  normal, 
an'  full  o'  jokes  an'  song. 

Tillte  Dutch  had  been  one  o'  the  braves  in  Spider's  Injun 
party ;  so  when  we  got  in,  about  ten  in  the  evenin',  he  lured 
the  rest  o'  the  pack  out  to  the  corral,  an'  we  agreed  not  to 
make  the  details  of  our  trip  public.  The  ol'  man  would  n't 
have  made  a  whole  lot  o'  fuss  seein'  as  it  had  turned  out  all 
right ;  but  still,  he  was  dead  set  on  what  he  called  courtesy 
to  guests;  and  he  might  'a'  thought  that  we  had  played 
Horace  a  leetle  mite  strong.  Barbie  noticed  the  change  in 
Horace  and,  o'  course,  she  pumped  most  o'  the  story  out 
o'  me. 

Horace  himself  was  as  game  a  little  rooster  as  I  ever  saw. 
He  follered  me  around  like  a  dog  after  that,  helpin'  with  my 
chores,  an'  ridin'  every  chance  he  had.  He  got  confidential, 
an'  told  me  a  lot  about  himself.  He  said  that  he  had  n't  never 
had  any  boyhood,  that  his  mother  was  a  rich  widow,  an' 
was  ambitious  to  make  a  scholar  out  of  him;  that  she  had 
sent  him  to  all  kinds  o'  schools  an'  colleges  an'  universities, 
and  had  had  private  tutors  for  him,  and  had  jammed  his 
head  so  full  o'  learnin'  that  the'  was  n't  room  for  his  brain 
to  beat;  so  it  had  just  lain  smotherin'  amidst  a  reek  of  all 
kinds  o'  musty  old  facts.  He  said  that  he  never  had  had 
time  for  exercise,  and  had  never  needed  money ;  so  he  had 
just  settled  into  a  groove  lined  with  books  an'  not  leadin' 
anywhere  at  all.  He  said  that  since  his  mother's  death  he 
had  been  livin'  like  a  regular  reecluse,  thinkin'  dead  thoughts 
in  dead  languages,  an'  not  takin'  much  interest  in  anything 


A    COMPLETE    CURE  115 

which  had  happened  since  the  fall  o'  Rome;  but  now  that 
he  had  learned  for  the  first  time  what  a  world  of  enjoyment 
the'  was  in  just  feelin'  real  life  poundin'  through  his  veins, 
he  intended  to  plunge  about  in  a  way  to  increase  the  quality, 
quantity,  and  circulation  of  his  blood. 

Ya  could  n't  help  likin'  a  feller  who  took  things  the  way 
he  did  —  we  all  liked  him.  He  told  us  to  treat  him  just  as 
if  he  was  a  fourteen-year-old  boy,  which  we  did,  an'  the' 
was  n't  nothin'  in  the  way  of  a  joke  that  he  was  n't  up 
against  before  the  summer  was  over;  but  he  came  back  at 
us  now  an'  again,  good  an'  plenty. 

Tank  an'  Spider  tossin'  up  their  jobs  had  left  me  with 
more  work  on  my  hands  'n  I  generally  liked,  so  I  had  to 
stick  purty  close  to  the  line  until  they  went  broke  an'  took 
on  again.  Then  one  day  me  an'  Horace  took  a  ride  up  into 
the  hills.  We  had  some  lunch  along  and  about  noon  we  sat 
down  in  a  grassy  spot  to  eat  it.  We  had  just  finished  and 
had  lighted  our  pipes  for  a  little  smoke  when  we  heard  Friar 
Tuck  comin'  up  the  trail.  I  had  n't  seen  him  for  months,  an' 
I  was  mighty  glad  to  hear  him  again.  He  was  fair  shoutin', 
so  I  knew  'at  things  was  right  side  up  with  him.  He  was 
singin'  the  one  which  begins :  "  Oh,  come,  all  ye  faithful, 
joyful  an'  triumphant,"  and  he  shook  the  echoes  loose 
with  it. 

Horace  turned  to  me  with  a  surprised  look  on  his  face; 
"Who's  that?"  he  sez. 

"That's  Friar  Tuck,"  sez  I,  "an'  if  you've  got  any 
troubles  tell  'em  to  him." 

"  Well,  would  n't  that  beat  ya ! "  exclaimed  Horace,  an' 
just  then  the  Friar  came  onto  our  level  with  his  hat  off  an' 
his  head  thrown  back.  He  was  leadin'  a  spare  hoss,  an' 
seemed  at  peace  with  all  the  world. 


ii6  FRIAR    TUCK 

When  he  spied  me,  he  headed  in  our  direction,  an'  as  soon 
as  he  had  finished  the  chorus,  he  called :  "  Hello,  Happy ! 
What  are  you  hidin'  from  up  here?  " 

I  jumped  to  my  feet,  an'  Horace  got  to  his  feet,  too,  an' 
bowed  an'  said :  "  How  do  ya  do,  Mr.  Carmichael  ?  " 

A  quick  change  came  over  the  Friar's  face.  It  got  cold 
an'  haughty;  and  I  was  flabbergasted,  because  I  had  never 
seen  it  get  that  way  before.  "  How  do  you  do,"  he  said,  as 
cheery  an'  chummy  as  a  hail-storm. 

But  he  did  n't  need  to  go  to  the  trouble  o'  f  reezin'  himself 
solid;  Horace  was  just  as  thin  skinned  as  he  was  when  it 
was  necessary,  an'  he  slipped  on  a  snuffer  over  his  welcomin' 
smile  full  as  gloomy  as  was  the  Friar's.  I  was  disgusted: 
nothin'  pesters  me  worse  'n  to  think  a  lot  o'  two  people  who 
can't  bear  each  other.  It  leaves  it  so  blame  uncertain  which 
one  of  us  has  poor  taste. 

Well,  we  had  one  o'  those  delightful  conflabs  about 
the  weather  an'  "  how  hot  it  was  daytimes,  but  so  cool 
an'  refreshin'  nights,"  an',  "  I  must  be  goin'  now,"  an'  "  oh, 
what 's  the  use  o'  goin'  so  soon "  —  and  so  on.  Then 
Horace  an'  the  Friar  bowed  an'  the  Friar  rode  away  as 
silent  an'  dignified  as  a  dog  which  has  been  sent  back 
home. 

"  Well,"  sez  Horace,  after  we  'd  seated  ourselves  again,  "  I 
never  expected  to  see  that  man  out  here.  I  would  n't  'a'  been 
more  surprised  to  have  seen  a  blue  fish  with  yaller  goggles 
on,  come  swimmin'  up  the  pass." 

"Oh,  wouldn't  ya?"  sez  I.  "Well,  that  man  ain't  no 
more  like  a  blue  fish  with  goggles  on  than  you  are.  He  's 
ace  high  anywhere  you  put  him,  an'  don't  you  forget 
that." 

"  You  need  n't  arch  up  your  back  about  it,"  he  sez.     "  I 


A    COMPLETE    CURE  117 

have  n't  said  anything  again'  him.  I  gave  up  goin'  to  church 
on  his  account." 

"  That 's  nothin'  to  brag  about,"  sez  I.  "  A  man  '11  give 
up  goin'  to  church  simply  because  they  hold  it  on  Sunday, 
which  is  the  one  day  o'  the  week  when  he  feels  most  like 
stackin'  up  his  feet  on  top  o'  somethin'  an'  smokin'  a  pipe. 
A  man  who  could  n't  plan  out  an  excuse  for  not  goin'  to 
church  would  n't  be  enough  intelligent  to  know  when  he 
was  hungry." 

"  You  must  'a'  set  up  late  last  night  to  whet  your  sar- 
casm !  "  sez  Horace,  swellin'  up  a  little.  "  Why  don't  you 
run  along  and  hold  up  a  screen,  so  'at  folks  can't  look  at 
your  parson." 

"How'd  you  happen  to  quit  church  on  his  account?" 
sez  I. 

"  He  was  only  a  curate,  when  I  first  knew  him,"  sez 
Horace. 

"  He  's  a  curate  yet,"  sez  I.  "  I  tried  one  of  his  cures 
myself,  lately;  an'  it  worked  like  a  charm."  I  turned  my 
head  away  so  'at  Horace  wouldn't  guess  'at  he  was  the 
cuss  I  had  tried  it  on. 

"A  curate  hasn't  nothin'  to  do  with  doctorin',"  sez 
Horace.  "A  curate  is  only  the  assistant  of  the  regular 
preacher  which  is  called  a  rector.  The  curate  does  the  hard 
work  an'  the  rector  gets  the  big  pay." 

"  That 's  the  way  with  all  assistants,"  sez  I ;  "so  don't 
bother  with  any  more  details.  Why  did  you  quit  goin'  to 
church?" 

"  I  quit  because  he  quit,"  sez  Horace. 

"  What  did  he  quit  for,"  sez  I ;  "  just  to  bust  up  the  church 
by  drawin'  your  patronage  away  from  it  ?  " 

"  He  quit  on  account  of  a  girl,"  sez  Horace ;   an'  then  I 


ii8  FRIAR    TUCK 

stopped  my  foolishness,  an'  settled  down  to  get  the  story 
out  of  him.  Here  I  'd  been  wonderin'  for  years  about 
Friar  Tuck;  an'  all  those  weeks  I  had  been  with  Horace 
I  had  never  once  thought  o'  tryin'  to  see  what  he  might 
know. 


CHAPTER   THIRTEEN 

AN    UNEXPECTED   CACHE 

HUMANS  is  the  most  disappointin'  of  all  the  animals :  when 
a  mule  opens  his  mouth,  you  know  what  sort  of  a  noise  is 
about  to  happen,  an'  can  brace  yourself  accordin';  an'  the 
same  is  true  o'  screech-owls,  an'  guinea-hens  an'  such;  but 
no  one  can  prepare  for  what  is  to  come  forth  when  a  human 
opens  his  mouth.  You  meet  up  with  a  professor  what  knows 
all  about  the  stars  an'  the  waterlines  in  the  hills  an'  the  pet- 
rified fishes,  an'  such;  but  his  method  o'  bein'  friendly  an' 
agreeable  is  to  sing  comic  songs  like  a  squeaky  saw,  an' 
dance  jigs  as  graceful  as  a  store  box ;  while  the  fellow  what 
can  sing  an'  dance  is  forever  tryin'  to  lecture  about  stuff 
he  is  densely  ignorant  of. 

The  other  animals  is  willin'  to  do  what  they  can  do,  an' 
they  take  pride  in  seein'  how  well  they  can  do  it;  but  not 
so  a  human.  He  only  takes  pride  in  tryin'  to  do  the  things 
he  can't  do.  A  hog  don't  try  to  fly,  nor  a  butterfly  don't  try 
to  play  the  cornet,  nor  a  cow  don't  set  an'  fret  because  she 
can't  climb  trees  like  a  squirrel;  but  not  so  with  man:  he 
has  to  try  everything  'at  anything  else  ever  tried,  an'  he 
don't  care  what  it  costs  nor  who  gets  killed  in  the  attempt. 
Sometimes  you  hear  a  wise  guy  say :  "  No,  no  that 's  con- 
trary to  human  nature."  This  is  so  simple  minded  it  allus 
makes  me  silent.  Human  nature  is  so  blame  contrary,  itself, 
that  nothin'  else  could  possibly  be  contrary  to  it.  To  think 
of  Horace  knowin'  about  the  Friar,  an'  yet  doggin'  me  all 
over  the  map  with  that  song  of  his,  was  enough  to  make 


120  FRIAR    TUCK 

me  shake  him  ;  but  I  did  n't.  I  wanted  the  story,  so  I  pumped 
him  for  it,  patient  an'  persistent. 

"  I  never  was  very  religious,"  began  Horace.  Most  people 
begin  stories  about  other  people,  by  tellin'  you  a  lot  about 
themselves,  so  I  had  my  resignation  braced  for  this.  "  I 
allus  liked  the  Greek  religion  better 'n  airy  other,"  he  went 
on.  "  It  was  a  fine,  free,  joyous  religion,  founded  on  Art 
an'  music,  an'  symmetry  —  " 

I  was  willin'  to  stand  for  his  own  biography;  but  after 
waitin'  this  long  for  a  clue  to  the  Friar's  past,  I  was  n't  re- 
signed to  hearin'  a  joint  debate  on  the  different  religions; 
so  I  interrupted,  by  askin'  if  him  believin'  in  the  Greek  reli- 
gion was  what  had  made  Friar  Tuck  throw  up  his  job. 

"  No,  you  chump,"  —  me  an'  Horace  was  such  good 
friends  by  this  time  that  we  did  n't  have  any  regard  for  one 
another's  feelin's.  "  No,  you  chump,"  he  sez,  "  I  told  you  he 
quit  on  account  of  a  girl.  I  don't  look  like  a  girl,  do  I  ?  " 

"  Well,"  sez  I,  studying  him  sober,  "  those  side-burns  look 
as  if  they  might  'a'  been  bangs  which  had  lost  their  holt  in 
front  an'  slipped  down  to  your  lip ;  but  aside  from  this  you 
don't  resemble  a  girl  enough  to  drive  a  man  out  o'  church." 

I  allus  had  better  luck  with  Horace  after  I  'd  spurred  him 
up  a  bit. 

"  You  see,  Friar  Tuck,  as  you  call  him,  was  a  good  deal 
of  a  fanatic,  those  days,"  sez  Horace,  after  he  'd  thrown 
a  stone  at  me.  "  He  took  his  religion  serious,  an'  wanted  to 
transform  the  world  into  what  it  would  be  if  all  people 
tried  their  best  to  live  actual  Christ-like  lives.  He  was  a  big 
country  boy,  fresh  from  college,  an'  full  of  ideals,  an'  feelin' 
strong  enough  to  hammer  things  out  accordin'  to  the  pat- 
tern he  had  chose. 

"  It  was  his  voice  which  got  him  his  place.     He  had  a 


AN    UNEXPECTED    CACHE          121 

perfectly  marvelous  voice,  an'  I  never  heard  any  one  else 
read  the  service  like  he  did.  This  was  what  took  me  to 
church,  and  I  'd  have  gone  as  long  as  he  stayed.  You  see, 
Happy,  life  is  really  made  up  of  sensations  an'  emotions; 
and  it  used  to  lift  me  into  the  clouds  to  see  his  shinin'  youth 
robed  in  white,  an'  hear  that  wonderful  voice  of  his  fillin' 
the  great,  soft-lighted  church  with  melody  an'  mystery.  It 
was  all  I  asked  of  religion  an'  it  filled  me  with  peace  an'  in- 
spiration. Of  course,  from  a  philosophical  standpoint,  the 
Greek  religion  —  " 

"  Did  the  girl  believe  in  the  Greek  religion  ?  "  I  asked  to 
switch  him  back. 

"  No,  no,"  he  snapped.  "  This  Greek  religion  that  I  'm 
speakin'  of  died  out  two  thousand  years  ago." 

"  Then  let 's  let  it  rest  in  peace,"  sez  I,  "  an'  go  on  with 
your  story." 

"  You  understand  that  this  was  a  fashionable  church,"  sez 
Horace.  "  They  was  willin'  to  pay  any  sum  for  music  an' 
fine  readin'  an'  all  that ;  but  they  was  n't  minded  to  carry  out 
young  Carmichael's  plan  in  the  matter  of  Christianizin'  the 
world.  They  was  respectable,  an'  they  insisted  that  all  who 
joined  in  with  'em  must  be  respectable,  too;  while  he  dis- 
covered that  a  lot  o'  the  most  persistent  sinners  was  n't  re- 
spectable at  all.  His  theory  was,  that  religion  was  for  the 
vulgar  sinners,  full  as  much  as  for  the  respectable  ones ;  so 
he  made  a  round-up  an'  wrangled  in  as  choice  a  lot  o'  sin- 
ners as  a  body  ever  saw ;  but  his  bosses  would  n't  stand  for 
his  corralin'  'em  up  in  that  fashionable  church. 

"  He  stood  out  for  the  sinners ;  an'  finally  they  compro- 
mised by  gettin'  him  a  little  chapel  in  the  slums,  an'  lettin' 
him  go  as  far  as  he  liked  with  the  tough  sinners  down  there 
through  the  week ;  but  readin'  the  service  on  Sundays  to  the 


122  FRIAR    TUCK 

respectable  sinners  in  the  big  church.  This  plan  worked 
smooth  as  ice,  until  they  felt  the  need  of  a  soprano  singer 
who  could  scrape  a  little  harder  again'  the  ceilin'  than  the 
one  they  already  had.  Then  Carmichael  told  'em  that  he 
had  discovered  a  girl  with  a  phe-nominal  voice,  an'  had  been 
teachin'  her  music  for  some  time.  He  brought  her  up  an' 
gave  her  a  trial  —  " 

"  An'  she  was  the  girl,  huh  ?  "  I  interrupted. 

"  She  had  a  wonderful  voice,  all  right,"  sez  Horace,  not 
heedin'  me ;  "  but  she  was  n't  as  well  trained  as  that  church 
demanded;  so  they  hired  her  for  twenty-five  dollars  a 
Sunday  on  the  condition  that  she  take  lessons  from  a  pro- 
fessor who  charged  ten  dollars  an  hour.  She  was  game, 
though,  an'  took  the  job,  an'  made  good  with  it,  too,  improvin' 
right  along  until  it  was  discovered  that  she  was  singin'  week- 
nights  in  a  cafe,  from  six  to  eight  in  the  evenin',  an'  from 
ten  to  twelve  at  night. 

"  The  girl  had  been  singin'  with  a  screen  o'  flowers  in  front 
of  her;  and  some  o'  the  fashionable  male  sinners  from  the 
big  church  had  been  goin'  there  right  along  to  hear  her  sing ; 
but  they  could  n't  work  any  plan  to  get  acquainted  with  her, 
and  this  made  her  a  mystery,  and  drew  'em  in  crowds. 
Finally,  as  her  voice  got  better  with  the  trainin',  critics  ad- 
mitted 'at  she  could  make  an  agreeable  noise ;  and  the  com- 
mon sinners  was  tickled  to  have  their  judgment  backed  up, 
so  they  began  to  brag  about  it.  The  result  o'  this  was,  that 
one  ol'  weasel  had  to  swaller  his  extra-work-at-the-office 
excuse,  and  take  his  own  wife  to  hear  the  singer.  Then  the 
jig  was  up.  The  woman  recognized  the  voice  first  pop;  and 
within  a  week  it  was  known  that  Carmichael  had  been  goin' 
home  with  her  every  night. 

"  Now,  you  may  be  so  simple-minded  that  you  don't  know 


AN    UNEXPECTED    CACHE          123 

it ;  but  really,  this  was  a  perfectly  scandalous  state  of  affairs, 
and  the  whole  congregation  began  to  buzz  like  a  swarm  of 
angry  bees.  Carmichael  was  as  handsome  a  young  feller 
as  was  ever  seen ;  but  he  had  never  taken  kindly  to  after- 
noon teas  and  such-like  functions,  which  is  supposed  to  be 
part  of  a  curate's  duties ;  so  now,  when  they  found  he  had 
been  goin'  home  nights  with  a  girl  'at  sang  in  a  cafe  it  like 
to  have  started  an  epidemic  of  hysteria. 

"  They  found  that  the  girl  lived  in  a  poor  part  o'  the  town, 
and  supported  her  mother  who  was  sickly,  that  they  were 
strangers  to  the  city,  and  also  not  minded  to  furnish  much 
in  the  way  o'  past  history.  They  insisted  upon  her  givin'  up 
the  caf  e-singin'  at  once ;  and  from  what  I  've  heard,  they 
turned  up  their  noses  when  they  said  it. 

"  Carmichael  pointed  out  that  she  was  givin'  up  twenty  a 
week  for  lessons  which  they  had  insisted  upon;  and  asked 
'em  if  they  were  sure  a  girl  could  be  any  more  respectable, 
supportin'  a  sickly  mother  on  five  a  week,  than  if  she  added 
fifteen  to  it  by  singin'  in  a  cafe.  He  got  right  uppish  about 
it  and  said  right  out  that  he  could  n't  see  where  it  was  one 
bit  more  hellish  for  her  to  sing  at  the  cafe  than  for  other 
Christians  to  pay  for  a  chance  to  listen  to  her. 

"  This  tangled  'em  up  in  their  own  ropes  consid'able ;  but 
what  finally  settled  it  was,  'at  their  richest  member  up  and 
died,  and  they  simply  had  to  have  a  sky-scrapin'  soprano 
to  start  him  off  in  good  style;  so  they  gave  her  twenty  a 
week  and  paid  for  her  lessons.  The  cafe  people  soon  found 
what  a  card  she  'd  been  and  they  offered  her  fifty  a  week ; 
but  she  was  game  and  stuck  to  the  agreement." 

"  How  did  you  find  out  all  this,  Horace  ?  "  I  asked. 

"A  friend  o'  mine  belonged  to  the  vestry,"  sez  Horace; 
"  and  he  kept  me  posted  to  the  minute.  This  was  his  first 


124  FRIAR    TUCK 

term  at  it,  and  it  was  his  last ;  but  he  was  a  lucky  cuss  to 
get  the  chance  just  when  he  did.  I  have  since  won  him 
over  to  see  the  beauty  o'  the  Greek  religion." 

"  What  became  o'  the  girl  ?  "  sez  I  with  some  impatience, 
for  I  did  n't  care  as  much  as  a  single  cuss-word  for  the  Greek 
religion. 

"  Carmichael  was  a  gentle  spoken  young  feller,"  sez 
Horace,  "  but  for  all  that,  he  was  n't  a  doormat  by  inherit- 
ance nor  choice,  and  he  kept  on  payin'  attention  to  the  girl, 
and  got  her  to  sing  at  his  annex  in  the  slums.  Night  after 
night  he  filled  the  place  with  the  best  assortment  o'  last- 
chance  sinners  'at  that  locality  could  furnish;  and  he  an' 
the  girl  an'  the  sinners  all  pitched  in  and  offered  up  song 
music  to  make  the  stars  rock ;  but  St.  Holiernthou  was  n't 
the  sort  of  a  parish  to  sit  back  and  let  a  slum  outfit  put  over 
as  swell  a  line  o'  melody  as  they  were  servin',  themselves; 
so  they  ordered  Carmichael  to  cut  her  off  his  list.  He  tried 
to  get  'em  to  hire  another  curate,  and  let  him  have  full  swing 
at  the  annex ;  but  they  told  him  they  'd  close  it  up  first. 

"  Next,  a  delegation  o'  brave  an'  inspired  women  took  it 
upon  'emselves  to  call  on  the  girl.  They  pointed  out  that  she 
was  standin'  in  the  way  o'  Carmichael's  career,  that,  under 
good  conditions,  his  advance  was  certain;  but  that  a  false 
step  at  the  start  would  ruin  it  all.  They  went  on  and  hinted 
that  if  it  was  n't  for  her,  he  might  have  married  an  heiress, 
and  grow  up  to  be  one  o'  the  leadin'  ministers  o'  the  whole 
country." 

"  What  did  she  do,  Horace?  "  sez  I. 

"  The  girl  was  proud ;  she  thanked  the  delegation  for  takin' 
so  much  interest  in  her  —  and  said  that  she  would  not  detain 
'em  any  longer;  but  would  think  it  over  as  careful  as  she 
could.  Then  she  walked  out  o'  the  room;  and  the  delega- 


AN    UNEXPECTED    CACHE          125 

tion  strutted  off  with  their  faces  shinin'  like  a  cavey  o'  pros- 
perous cats.  The  girl  vanished,  just  simply  vanished.  She 
wrote  Carmichael  a  letter,  and  that  was  the  end  of  it.  Some 
say  she  committed  suicide,  and  some  say  she  went  to  Europe 
and  became  a  preemie  donner  —  a  star  singer  —  but  anyway, 
that  was  the  end  of  her,  as  far  as  that  region  was  concerned." 

"  She  was  a  fine  girl,"  sez  I ;  "  though  I  wish  that  instead 
of  slippin'  off  that  way,  she  had  asked  me  to  drown  the  mem- 
bers o'  that  delegation  as  inconspicuous  as  possible.  I 
would  n't  put  on  mournin',  if  the  whole  outfit  of  'em  was 
in  the  same  fix  your  confounded  Greek  Religion  is.  What 
was  her  name,  Horace  ?  " 

"  Janet  Morris,"  sez  he. 

I  said  it  over  a  time  or  two  to  myself;  and  it  seemed  to 
fit  her.  "  I  like  that  name,"  sez  I.  "  Now  tell  me  the  way 
'at  the  Friar  cut  loose  and  tied  into  that  vestry.  I  bet  he 
made  trade  boom  for  hospitals  and  undertakers." 


CHAPTER   FOURTEEN 

HAPPY'S    NEW   AMBITION 

OL'  Tank  Williams  allus  maintained  that  I  had  a  memory 
like  the  Lord;  but  this  ain't  so.  What  I  do  remember,  I 
actually  see  in  pictures,  just  like  I  told  you ;  but  what  my 
memory  chooses  to  discard  is  as  far  out  o'  my  reach  as  the 
§moke  o'  last  year's  fire.  I  've  worked  at  my  memory  from 
the  day  I  was  weaned,  not  bein'  enough  edicated  to  know 
'at  the  proper  way  is  to  put  your  memory  in  a  book  —  and 
then  not  lose  the  book.  I  've  missed  a  lot  through  not  gettin' 
on  friendly  terms  with  books  earlier  in  life ;  but  then  I  've 
had  a  lot  o'  fun  with  my  memory  to  even  things  up. 

This  part  about  the  Friar,  though,  isn't  a  fair  test. 
Horace's  vestry-man  friend  was  what  is  known  as  a  short- 
hand reporter.  Short-hand  writin'  is  merely  a  lot  o'  dabs 
and  slips  which  'd  strain  a  Chinaman ;  but  Horace  said  it  was 
as  plain  to  read  as  print  letters,  and  as  fast  to  write  as  spoke 
words.  Hugo  took  it  down  right  as  it  was  given ;  and 
Horace  had  a  copy  which  I  made  him  go  over  with  me 
until  I  had  scratched  it  into  the  hardest  part  o'  my  memory ; 
and  now  it  is  just  the  same  as  if  I  had  seen  it  with  my  own 
eyes  —  me  knowin'  every  tone  in  the  Friar's  voice,  and  the 
way  his  eyes  shine;  yes,  and  the  way  his  jaws  snap  off  the 
words  when  he  's  puttin'  his  heart  into  a  thing. 

Horace  sat  thinkin',  before  he  started  on  with  his  tale ;  and 
I  sat  watchin'  his  face.  It  was  just  all  I  could  do  to  make 
out  the  old  lines  which  had  give  me  the  creeps  a  few  weeks 


HAPPY'S     NEW    AMBITION         127 

before.  Now,  it  had  a  fine,  solid  tan,  the  eyes  were  full  o' 
fire,  and  he  looked  as  free  from  nerves  as  a  line  buckskin. 
The  Friar  sez  we  're  all  just  bits  o'  glass  through  which  the 
spirit  shines;  and  now  that  I  had  cleaned  Horace  up  with 
my  nerve  treatment,  the'  was  a  right  smart  of  spirit  shinin' 
out  through  him,  and  I  warmed  my  hands  at  it.  He  simply 
could  not  learn  to  roll  a  cigarette  with  one  hand;  but  in 
most  things,  he  was  as  able  a  little  chap  as  ever  I  took  the 
kinks  out  of. 

"  I  'm  sorry  I  did  n't  belong  to  that  vestry,"  sez  Horace, 
after  a  bit.  "  When  I  look  back  at  all  the  sportin'  chances 
I  've  missed,  I  feel  like  kickin'  myself  up  to  the  North  Pole 
and  back.  From  now  on  I  intend  to  mix  into  every  bloomin' 
jambaree  'at  exposes  itself  to  the  vision  of  my  gaze.  I  'm 
goin'  to  ride  an'  shoot  an'  wrestle  an'  box  an'  gamble  an' 
fight,  and  get  every  last  sensation  I  'm  entitled  to  —  but  I  '11 
never  have  another  chance  at  a  vestry-meetin'  like  the  one 
I  'm  about  to  tell  you  of. 

"  You  saw  how  toppy  Carmichael  got  this  afternoon ;  so 
you  can  guess  purty  close  how  he  looked  when  he  lined  up 
this  vestry." 

"  Oh,  I  've  seen  the  Friar  in  action,"  sez  I ;  "  and  you  can't 
tell  me  anything  about  his  style.  All  you  can  tell  is  the  de- 
tails. So  go  to  'em  without  wastin'  any  more  time." 

"  How  comes  it  you  call  such  a  man  as  him  Friar  Tuck  ?  " 
asked  Horace,  who  allus  was  as  hard  to  drive  as  an  only  son 
burro. 

"  Well,  I  don't  approve  of  it,"  sez  I,  "  and  I  kicked  about 
it  to  the  Friar ;  but  he  only  laughed,  and  said  'at  one  name 
was  as  good  as  another.  A  bettin'  barber  over  at  Boggs  give 
it  to  him  for  admonishin'  a  gambler  from  Cheyenne." 

"  Was  he  severe  ?  "  asked  Horace. 


128  FRIAR    TUCK 

"  Depends  on  how  you  look  at  it,"  sez  I.  "  He  took  a  club 
away  from  the  gambler  an'  spanked  him  with  it;  but  he 
did  n't  injure  him  a  mite." 

"  Humph,"  sez  Horace,  "  I  guess  the  name  won't  rust 
much  while  it's  in  his  keepin'.  He  took  other  methods  at 
this  vestry  meetin',  though  I  don't  say  they  were  any  more 
befittin'.  Hugo  —  such  was  the  name  of  my  friend  —  said 
it  was  the  quietest,  but  the  most  dramatic  thing  he  ever 
saw. 

"  They  started  in  by  treatin'  him  like  the  boy  he  was,  gave 
him  a  lot  o'  copy-book  advice,  especially  as  to  the  value  o' 
patience,  how  that  Paul  was  to  do  the  plantin',  Appolinaris, 
the  waterin';  but  that  the  size  an'  time  o'  the  harvest  de- 
pended on  the  Lord,  Himself;  and  that  it  was  vanity  to 
think  'at  a  young  boy  just  out  o'  college  could  rush  things 
through  the  way  he  was  tryin'  to. 

"  The'  was  a  hurt  look  about  Carmichael's  eyes ;  but  the 
hurt  had  come  from  the  letter,  not  from  them,  so  he  sat 
quiet  and  smiled  down  at  'em  in  a  sort  of  super-human  calm- 
ness. They  thought  he  was  bluffed  speechless,  so  they  girded 
up  their  loins,  an'  tied  into  him  a  little  harder,  tellin'  him 
that  his  conduct  in  walkin'  home  nights  with  a  cafe-singer 
was  little  short  of  immoral,  although  they  wouldn't  make 
no  pointed  charge  again'  the  woman  herself.  Then  they 
wound  up  by  sayin'  'at  they  feared  he  was  too  young  to 
spend  so  much  time  amid  the  environs  o'  sin,  and  that  they 
would  put  an  older  man  in  charge  o'  the  annex,  and  this 
would  leave  him  free  to  attend  strictly  to  cu-ratin'. 

"  When  they  had  spoke  their  piece,  they  were  all  beamin' 
with  the  upliftin'  effect  of  it;  and  they  settled  back  with 
beautiful  smiles  o'  satisfaction  to  listen  to  Carmichael's 
thanks  and  repentance.  He  sat  there  smilin'  too  —  not  smilin' 


HAPPY'S     NEW    AMBITION         129 

the  brand  o'   smiles   'at  they  were,   but  still  smilin'.     It 
would  strain  a  dictionary  to  tell  all  there  is  in  some  smiles. 

"  Presently  he  rose  up,  swept  his  eyes  over  'em  for  a  time, 
and  said  in  a  low  tone :  '  Then  I  am  to  understand  that  I  am 
to  follow  in  the  Master's  footsteps  only  as  far  as  personal 
chastity  goes  ? '  said  he.  '  That  I  may  respectably  pity  the 
weak  and  sinful  from  a  distance;  but  must  not  dismount 
from  my  exalted  pedestal  to  take  'em  by  the  hand  an'  lift 
'em  up  —  Is  that  what  you  mean  ? '  sez  he. 

"  They  still  thought  he  was  whipped,  so  one  of  'em  pulled 
a  little  sarcasm  on  him :  '  Takin'  the  weak  an'  sinful  by  the 
hand  an'  liftin'  'em  up  is  all  right,'  said  he;  'but  it's  not 
necessary  to  go  home  with  'em  after  midnight.' 

"  Carmichael  bit  his  lips ;  he  tried  to  hold  himself  down, 
he  honestly  tried  for  some  time ;  but  he  was  n't  quite  able. 
His  hands  trembled  an'  his  lip  trembled  while  he  was  fightin' 
himself;  but  when  he  kicked  off  his  hobbles  an'  sailed  into 
'em,  his  tremblin'  stopped  an'  the  words  shot  forth,  clear  an' 
hot  an'  bitish.  Hugo  sat  back  in  a  corner  durin'  this  meetin', 
without  speakin'  a  single  word ;  and  he  was  glad  of  it.  It 
saved  him  from  gettin'  his  feelin's  kicked  into  flinders  about 
him,  an'  interf  erin'  with  the  view ;  and  it  gave  him  a  chance 
to  take  his  notes. 

"  '  As  a  matter  o'  faith,'  said  Carmichael,  '  we  believe  that 
Jesus  never  sinned ;  but  we  cannot  know  this  as  a  matter  of 
fact.  Yet  we  can  know,  and  we  do  know,  as  a  matter  of 
history,  that  He  mingled  an'  had  fellowship  with  the  fallen, 
the  sinful,  the  outcast,  and  the  disreputable.  With  these  He 
lived,  and  with  these  and  for  these  He  left  the  power  and 
the  life  and  the  glory  of  His  religion  —  and  you  say  that  I 
must  live  in  a  glass  case,  may  only  look  in  holy  dignity  down 
at  the  weak  and  sinful;  but  that  I  mustn't  go  home  with 


130  FRIAR    TUCK 

'em  after  midnight.  With  God,  a  thousand  years  is  but  as 
a  day  —  and  yet  it  would  be  wrong  for  me  to  be  in  a  sinner's 
company  after  midnight ! ' 

"  Carmichael  paused  here  to  give  'em  a  comeback  at  him ; 
but  their  mouths  were  dry,  and  they  only  hemmed  an' 
hawed.  '  Every  Sunday,  in  the  service  of  this  refined  an' 
respectable  church,  hunderds  of  you  admit  that  you  have 
no  health  because  of  your  sins  —  and  yet,  because  of  my 
youth,  you  say  I  must  remain  with  you  where  sin  is  robed 
in  silk  and  broadcloth,  and  not  risk  my  soul  where  sin  is 
robed  in  rags.' 

"  He  paused  again,  and  this  time  his  eyes  began  to  shoot 
jerk-lightning,  an'  when  he  started  to  speak  his  deep  voice 
shook  the  room  like  the  low  notes  of  a  big  organ.  '  No,'  he 
said,  '  I  am  not  content  to  walk  with  the  Lord,  only  on  the 
day  of  His  triumph  —  The  very  ones  who  strewed  the  path- 
way of  His  majesty  with  palms,  and  filled  the  air  with  ho- 
saners,  deserted  Him  at  the  cross  —  but  I  must  walk  with 
Him  every  step  of  the  way.  I  do  not  pray  that  my  earthly 
garments  be  spotless,  I  do  not  pray  that  my  sandals  be  un- 
worn an'  free  from  mud;  but  I  do  pray  that  when  I  stand 
on  my  own  Calvery  I  may  stand  with  those  who  bear  crosses, 
not  with  those  who  have  spent  their  lives  in  learnin'  to  wear 
crowns.' 

"  Carmichael  had  discarded  that  entire  vestry  by  this  time, 
and  he  did  n't  care  a  blue-bottle  fly  what  they  thought  of 
him.  He  towered  above  them  with  his  face  shinin',  and  his 
voice  rolled  down  over  'em  like  a  Norther  sweepin'  through 
the  hills.  '  Many  there  were,'  he  went  on,  '  who  cried  to  Him, 
Lord,  Lord ;  but  after  the  tomb  was  sealed,  it  was  the  Mag- 
dalene whose  faith  never  faltered,  it  was  to  her  He  first  ap- 
peared; and  on  the  final  resurrection  morning,  I  hope  the 


HAPPY'S     NEW    AMBITION          131 

lesser  Magdalenes  of  all  the  ages,  and  from  all  the  nasty 
corners  of  the  world  into  which  man's  greed  has  crowded 
'em,  will  know  that  I  am  their  brother,  and,  save  for  a  lovin' 
hand  at  the  right  moment,  one  of  them  to  the  last  sordid 
detail.' 

"  Carmichael  stopped  after  this,  and  the  room  was  so 
quiet  you  could  hear  the  consciences  o'  that  vestry  floppin' 
up  and  down  again'  their  pocketbooks.  When  he  began  again 
his  voice  was  soft,  an'  the  bitterness  had  given  way  to  sad- 
ness. '  The  old  way  was  best,  after  all,'  he  said.  '  When 
you  pay  a  priest  a  salary,  you  hire  him  and  he  becomes  your 
servant.  The  custom  is,  for  masters  to  dictate  to  their  ser- 
vants ;  it  is  an  old,  old  custom,  and  hard  to  break.  I  think 
I  could  suit  you ;  but  I  do  not  think  I  shall  try.  The  roots 
of  my  own  life  lead  back  to  the  gutter,  and  through  these 
roots  shall  I  draw  strength  to  lift  others  from  the  gutter. 
I  do  not  value  my  voice  as  a  means  to  amuse  those  already 
weary  of  amusement :  I  look  upon  it  as  a  tool  to  help  clean 
up  the  world.  You  are  already  so  clean  that  you  fear  I  may 
defile  you  by  contagion.  You  do  not  need  me ;  and  with  all 
your  careful  business  methods,  you  have  not  money  enough 
to  hire  me. 

"  '  What  you  need  here,  is  a  diplomat ;  while  I  yearn  to  be 
on  the  firm'  line.  I  care  little  for  the  etiquette  of  religion, 
I  want  to  get  down  where  the  fightin'  is  fierce  an'  primitive 
—  so  I  hereby  resign. 

" '  This  girl  whom  you  have  driven  out  of  my  life,  needs 
no  defence  from  me  or  any  man.  I  have  known  her  since 
she  was  a  little  child ;  poverty  was  her  lot,  and  self-sacrifice 
has  become  her  second  nature.  We  are  forbidden  to  judge; 
so  I  judge  neither  her  nor  you ;  but  I  will  say  that  often  I 
have  stood  silent  before  the  beauty  of  her  character,  and 


I32  FRIAR    TUCK 

often  my  face  has  burned  at  the  tainted  money  you  have 
put  on  the  plate.  Part  of  this  money  comes  from  the  rental 
of  dives.  I  have  seen  the  dives  themselves,  I  have  seen 
their  fearful  product ;  and  I  cannot  believe  that  profit  wrung 
from  a  helpless  slave  can  find  its  way  to  God  —  even  on  the 
contribution  plate. 

"  '  I  love  the  music  an'  the  service  an'  the  vestments  o' 
this  church;  and  I  hope  I  need  not  give  them  up;  but  my 
heart  is  in  rebellion,  and  from  this  time  on  I  take  the  full  re- 
sponsibility of  my  acts.  I  shall  not  choose  my  path  ;  but  will 
go  as  the  spirit  moves  me ;  and  if  ever  I  find  one  single  spot 
which  seems  too  dark  for  the  Light  of  the  world  to  enter, 
then  shall  the  soul  in  me  shrivel  and  die,  and  I  shall  become 
a  beast,  howling  in  the  jungle.' " 

Horace  said  that  after  the  Friar  had  left  the  room,  those 
vestry  fellers  sat  in  a  sort  of  daze  for  some  time,  and  then 
got  up  an'  sneaked  out  one  at  a  time,  lookin'  exceeding 
thoughtful ;  while  Hugo  had  hustled  around  to  his  room  to 
read  off  his  notes. 

We  sat  there  on  the  hill  until  dark,  me  tryin'  to  pump  him 
for  more  details,  but  he  did  n't  have  'em.  He  said  the  Friar 
had  started  to  work  in  the  slums ;  but  was  soon  lost  sight  of, 
and  the  first  he  had  heard  of  him  for  years  was  when  he  had 
come  up  the  pass,  singin'  his  marchin'  song.  Course,  I  'd 
liked  it  some  better  if  the  Friar  had  knocked  their  heads  to- 
gether ;  but  still,  takin'  his  eyes  an'  voice  into  consideration, 
it  must  'a'  been  a  fine  sight ;  and  if  ever  I  get  the  chance,  I  'm 
goin'  to  take  on  as  a  vestry-man,  myself,  for  at  least  one 
term. 


CHAPTER   FIFTEEN 

TENDER  FEELINGS 

ME  an'  Horace  was  regular  chums  after  this.  I  had  got  to 
likin'  him  after  he  had  showed  up  good  stuff  under  treat- 
ment ;  but  I  never  took  him  serious  until  he  got  enthusiastic 
about  Friar  Tuck.  This  proved  him  to  have  desirable  quali- 
ties and  made  him  altogether  worth  while.  A  man  never  gets 
too  old  to  dote  on  flattery;  but  the  older  he  gets  the  more 
particular  he  is  about  its  quality.  It 's  just  like  tobacco  an' 
pie  an'  whiskey  an'  such  things :  we  start  out  hungry  for  'em 
an'  take  a  lot  o'  trouble  to  get  'em  in  quantity ;  but  after  a 
time  we  'd  sooner  go  without  altogether  than  not  to  have  a 
superior  article ;  an'  it 's  just  the  same  way  with  flattery. 

I  took  Horace  into  my  most  thoughtful  moods  as  soon  as 
I  found  out  that  he  was  as  sound  as  a  nut  at  heart,  an'  that 
it  was  n't  altogether  his  fault  that  he  had  been  a  pest  to  me 
at  first.  The  human  mind  is  like  new  land,  some  of  it 's  rich 
an'  some  poor.  Facts  is  like  manure,  idees  is  like  seed,  an' 
education  is  like  spadin'  up  an'  hoein'  an'  rakin'.  Rich  soil 
is  bound  to  raise  somethin',  even  if  it 's  nothin'  but  weeds ; 
but  poor  soil  needs  special  care,  or  it  won't  even  raise  weeds. 
Now,  manure  can  be  put  on  so  thick  it  will  turn  ground 
sour,  an'  seeds  can  be  sowed  so  thick  they  will  choke  each 
other,  an'  a  green  hand  will  sometimes  hoe  up  the  vege- 
tables an'  cultivate  the  weeds;  but  the  soil  ain't  to  blame 
for  this. 

Poor  Horace's  mind  had  been  bungled  to  an  infernal  de- 


i34  FRIAR    TUCK 

gree;  an'  it  kept  me  busy  rootin'  up  sprouts  o'  Greek  reli- 
gion. I  'd  have  stood  this  better  if  the  Greek  gods  an'  god- 
duses  had  had  Christian  names ;  'cause  I  own  up  'at  some  o' 
his  tales  of  'em  was  interestin' ;  but  I  could  n't  keep  track  of 
'em,  an'  so  I  made  him  discard  'em  in  his  conversations  with 
me ;  an'  the  way  he  flattered  me  was,  to  reform  himself  ac- 
cordin'  to  what  I  demanded. 

I  was  teachin'  him  how  to  shoot,  an'  he  was  enjoyin'  it  a 
lot.  He  had  plenty  o'  money,  and  took  pleasure  in  spendin' 
it.  This  was  good,  'cause  it  costs  a  lot  o'  money  to  become 
a  good  shot.  I  'm  glad  I  don't  know  what  it  cost  me  to  learn 
how  to  shoot  a  man  through  both  ears  after  doin'  the  double 
reverse  roll.  I  never  had  but  one  fit  chance  to  use  this,  an' 
then  I  shot  Frenchy  through  his  ears  without  rememberin' 
to  use  the  roll.  I  allus  felt  bad  about  this,  'cause  I  had  a  good 
audience,  an'  nothin'  saves  a  man  from  the  necessity  o' 
shootin'  his  fellows,  so  much  as  havin'  it  well  advertised  that 
he  is  thoroughly  qualified  to  do  it  in  proper  style.  I  kept  up 
my  own-practicin'  while  teachin'  Horace,  an'  we  had  right 
sociable  times. 

He  could  throw  up  a  tin  can  with  his  left  hand,  pull  his 
gun  and,  about  once  out  o'  ten  shots,  hit  the  can  before  it 
fell ;  which  is  purty  fair  shootin' ;  but  he  was  beginnin'  to 
suspect  that  he  was  a  regular  gun-man ;  which  is  a  dangerous 
idee  for  any  one  to  get  into  his  head.  I  tried  to  weight  down 
his  head  a  little  to  keep  him  sensible,  but  instead  o'  thankin' 
me  he  went  off  with  Tank,  who  shot  up  a  lot  of  his  catridges 
at  target  practice;  and  in  return,  puffed  up  the  top-heavy 
opinion  Horace  already  had  of  himself. 

He  took  Horace  down  to  a  warm  canon  where  the'  was 
a  lot  o'  rattlesnakes,  claimin'  it  was  necessary  to  test  him  out 
an'  see  if  he  had  nerve  on  a  livin'  creature.  He  shot  off  the 


TENDER    FEELINGS  135 

heads  o'  three  snakes,  hand-runnin',  an'  it  nearly  broke  his 
hatband. 

When  he  told  me  about  it,  I  let  him  know  'at  Tank  was 
only  workin'  him.  "  A  rattlesnake  will  strike  at  a  flash, 
Horace,"  sez  I ;  "  an'  it  was  the  snake's  eyes  which  were  ac- 
curate, not  yours."  This  cut  him  up  an'  made  him  a  little 
offish  with  me  for  a  few  days,  until  he  found  I  had  told  him 
the  truth.  Ol'  Tank  Williams  wasn't  no  fancy  shot;  but 
I  'd  rather  have  tackled  Horace  with  a  gun,  cocked  in  his 
hand,  than  ol'  Tank,  with  his  gun  asleep  in  its  holster. 

After  Horace  had  made  the  test  of  shootin'  at  dead  snakes 
an'  had  found  that  he  couldn't  pop  off  three  heads  hand- 
runnin',  he  simmered  down  a  little  an'  paid  more  heed  to  what 
I  told  him ;  but  after  I  had  proved  that  I  told  him  straighter 
stuff  'n  Tank  did,  I  decided  it  would  be  necessary  to  punish 
him  a  little.  I  did  n't  get  downright  cold  with  him,  because 
I  did  n't  want  to  exagerate  his  vanity  any  more  'n  it  already 
was;  but  I  made  it  a  point  to  do  my  loafin'  with  Spider 
Kelley.  Horace  was  crazy  to  go  bear-huntin' ;  but  I  did  n't 
seem  interested,  an'  I  recommended  ol'  Tank  Williams  as 
bein'  some  the  best  bear-hunter  the'  was  in  existence.  I 
wasn't  jealous  of  Horace  goin'  off  shootin'  with  Tank;  but 
still  if  a  feller  chooses  to  dispense  with  my  company,  I  allus 
like  to  show  him  'at  I  can  stand  it  as  long  as  he  can. 

Quite  a  string  o'  years  had  slipped  away  since  the  bettin' 
barber  o'  Boggs  had  strung  ol'  man  Dort;  so  I  reminded 
Spider  'at  we  had  agreed  to  help  even  that  up  sometime ;  and 
Spider,  he  said  he  was  ready  to  do  his  part,  whatever  it 
happened  to  be ;  so  we  planned  idees  out  among  ourselves, 
while  Horace  hung  around  lookin'  wishful. 

We  had  never  given  it  away  about  the  woodchuck  not 
bein'  a  regular  squirrel ;  so  the  boys  still  used  to  congregate 


136  FRIAR    TUCK 

together  purty  often  at  ol'  man  Dort's  to  marvel  at  the  way 
Columbus  had  filled  out  an'  took  on  flesh.  He  had  got  rough 
an'  blotchy  soon  after  he  had  won  the  contest  from  Ben 
Butler,  the  red  squirrel,  an'  it  was  plain  to  all  that  Eugene 
had  done  some  high-toned  barberin'  on  him  before  the  day  o' 
the  show. 

Ol'  man  Dort  did  n't  have  no  affection  for  Columbus  — 
fact  is,  he  sort  o'  hated  him  for  bein'  bigger  'n  Ben  Butler ; 
but  he  kept  him  fat  an'  fit  so  as  to  be  ready  to  enter  in  a  con- 
test the  minute  any  feller  came  along  with  a  squirrel  he 
thought  was  big  enough  to  back  up  with  a  bet.  The  trouble 
was,  that  mighty  few  fellers  out  that  way  owned  any  squir- 
rels, an'  as  the  years  dragged  by  without  him  gettin'  any 
pastime  out  o'  Columbus,  ol'  man  Dort's  affection  for  him 
grew  thinner  an'  thinner.  Some  o'  the  boys  discovered  him 
to  be  a  woodchuck;  but  no  one  told  of  it  for  fear  the  old 
man  would  slaughter  Eugene. 

The  old  man  kept  on  gettin'  barbered,  so  as  to  have  the 
chance  o'  clashin'  with  Eugene  about  every  subject  which 
came  up ;  but  finally  he  got  so  he  could  be  shaved  in  a  decent, 
orderly  manner  without  havin'  his  head  tied  down  to  the 
rest.  Him  an'  Eugene  was  the  most  antagonistic  fellers  I 
ever  met  up  with ;  but  it  was  a  long  time  before  me  an'  Spider 
could  think  up  a  way  to  get  'em  fairly  at  it  again. 

One  day  Spider  came  ridin'  in  from  Danders,  bubblin'  over 
with  excitement,  and  yells  out  — "  Pete  Peabody  's  got  a 
freak  guinea-pig." 

"  That 's  glorious  news,"  sez  I.  "  Let 's  get  all  the  boys 
together  an'  hold  a  celebration." 

"  I  guess  a  freak  guinea-pig 's  as  worthy  o'  bein'  com- 
mented on  as  airy  other  kind  of  freak,"  sez  Spider,  stridin' 
off  to  the  corral,  purty  well  pouted  up. 


TENDER    FEELINGS  137 

He  had  n't  more  'n  reached  it  before  an  idee  reached  me, 
an'  I  ran  after  him.  "  What  is  the'  freakish  about  this 
guinea-pig,  Spider  ?  "  sez  I. 

"  He  's  got  a  tail,"  snapped  Spider. 

"  Ain't  they  all  got  tails  ?  "  sez  I. 

"  You  know  they  ain't,"  he  sez.  "  You  remember  what 
that  feller  from  the  East  said  last  spring  —  if  you  hold  up 
a  guinea-pig  by  the  tail,  his  eyes  fall  out,  an'  then  when 
we  did  n't  believe  it,  he  told  us  they  did  n't  have  no  tails. 
Pete  sez  that  this  guinea-pig  is  the  only  one  in  the  world 
what  has  a  tail." 

"  Do  you  reckon  he  'd  sell  it?  " 

"He'd  sell  the  hair  off  his  head,"  sez  Spider. 

"  Well,  you  go  back  there  an'  —  But  say,  has  Pete  got 
any  others  ?  " 

"  He  had  ten  when  I  left,  an'  no  knowin'  how  many  he  's 
got  by  this  time.  Pete  sez  'at  guinea-pigs  is  the  prolificest 
things  the'  is,"  sez  Spider. 

"  You  buy  three  of  'em,  Spider,"  sez  I ;  "  a  male  one  an' 
a  female  one,  an'  this  here  freak." 

"  What  do  I  want  with  'em  ?  "  sez  Spider. 

"  I  '11  pay  half,  an'  show  you  how  to  make  money  out  of 
'em,"  sez  I. 

"  I  don't  want  to  tinker  with  no  such  cattle  as  them,"  sez 
Spider. 

"  You  get  a  fresh  pony,  an'  it  won't  take  you  no  time  at 
all,"  sez  I. 

So  Spider  got  the  pony  an'  went  off  grumblin'.  When  he 
brought  'em  back  he  had  'em  in  a  small  box  an'  they  certainly 
was  curious  lookin'  insects.  "  I  paid  four  bits  apiece  for  the 
male  an'  the  female,"  sez  Spider,  "an'  twenty-five  real 
dollars  for  the  freak." 


I38  FRIAR    TUCK 

"  If  that 's  the  way  prices  run,"  sez  I,  "  it  ain't  no  wonder 
that  guinea-pigs  what  are  ambitious  to  be  popular,  are  willin' 
to  give  up  the  luxury  o'  tails." 

"  Now  then,  what  in  thunder  are  we  goin'  to  do  with 
'em  ?  "  sez  Spider. 

"  Get  a  fresh  pony,"  sez  I,  "  an'  we  '11  go  on  over  to 
Boggs." 

"  You  go  to  the  equator !  "  yells  Spider.  "  I  ain't  had  no 
sleep  for  a  week." 

"  Sleep,"  sez  I,  "  what 's  the  use  o'  botherin'  about  sleep  ? 
You  keep  on  losin'  your  strength  this  way,  an'  in  about  a 
year  they  '11  be  trundlin'  you  around  in  a  baby  cart.  All 
right  then,  you  stay  home  an'  be  company  for  the  freak. 
We  '11  hide  him  up  in  the  attic  so  the  rats  can't  get  him." 

"  Oh  I  could  stand  it  to  go  without  sleep,  if  I  saw  any 
sense  in  it,"  sez  Spider ;  "  but  hanged  if  I  'm  goin'  to  ride 
my  bones  through  my  skin  just  to  please  you." 

"  Suit  yourself,"  sez  I.  "  We  '11  put  the  freak  in  the  tin 
cake-box  an'  punch  a  few  holes  in  it  to  give  him  air.  I  '11 
do  that  while  you  're  makin'  up  your  mind  about  goin'  along 
to  Boggs." 

"  What  you  goin'  to  do  with  the  male  an'  the  female  ?  "  sez 
Spider  as  I  started  away. 

"  I  'm  goin'  to  sell  'em  to  Eugene,"  I  calls  back  over  my 
shoulder,  an'  then  I  knew  I  'd  have  company. 

"  I  thought  you  was  goin'  to  Boggs,"  sez  Spider  as  soon  as 
we  had  settled  into  a  travelin'  trot.  I  allus  find  that  I  get 
along  easier  with  people  if  I  just  leave  'em  one  or  two  items 
to  puzzle  over. 

"  Webb  Station  is  closer,"  sez  I ;  "  an'  if  this  deal  causes 
any  hard  feelin'  it  will  be  just  as  well  not  to  be  mixed  up  in 
it  ourselves." 


TENDER    FEELINGS  139 

"  I  thought  you  was  goin'  to  sell  these  to  Eugene  ?  "  sez 
Spider. 

"  If  you  'd  just  go  to  sleep,  Spider,"  sez  I,  "  it  would  save 
your  brain  the  trouble  o'  thinkin'  up  a  lot  o'  thoughts  which 
ain't  no  use  anyhow.  I  'm  goin'  to  let  Shorty  take  'em  over 
this  evenin'  an'  sell  'em  to  Eugene." 

"  How  do  you  know  he  wants  'em  ?  " 

"  'Cause  I  know  Eugene,"  sez  I.  "  I  '11  fix  up  Shorty's 
tale  for  him." 

Well,  we  explained  to  Shorty  the  bettin'  principle  of 
guinea-pigs,  an'  gave  him  the  pigs,  tellin'  him  he  could  have 
all  he  won  from  Eugene  on  the  first  bet;  but  to  then  sell 
'em  to  Eugene  without  lettin'  any  o'  the  other  fellers  know 
anything  about  it,  an'  to  make  Eugene  think  that  he  had 
picked  'em  up  from  a  train  passenger,  not  from  us. 

Shorty  said  that  he  'd  go  over  that  afternoon  as  soon  as 
the  passenger  had  gone  —  Shorty  was  the  telegraph  opera- 
tor —  so  Spider  an'  I  came  back,  he  sleepin'  all  the  way. 

"  Where  do  we  come  in  on  this  deal  ?  "  sez  Spider  next 
day. 

"  We  '11  give  Eugene  a  chance  to  cut  their  hair  a  new 
way,  an'  then  we'll  go  over  to  Boggs  an'  line  things  up." 

"  I  'm  beginnin'  to  see  how  it  could  be  worked  out,"  sez 
Spider,  grinnin'. 

In  about  a  week  we  went  over  to  Boggs,  an'  found  the 
town  purty  well  deserted.  We  dropped  into  ol'  man  Dort's 
to  compliment  Columbus  some  an'  sympathize  with  Ben 
Butler  a  little,  while  tryin'  to  hear  if  Eugene  had  made 
his  play  yet.  The  ol'  man  was  gloatin'  over  the  fact  that 
Eugene  wasn't  havin'  much  trade,  but  he  didn't  mention 
anything  about  guinea-pigs. 

"  You  don't  seem  rushed,  yourself,"  sez  I. 


I4o  FRIAR    TUCK 

"Course  I  ain't,"  he  flares  back.  "Most  o'  the  fellers 
are  still  roundin'  up,  an'  the  rest  are  out  huntin'  for  Red 
Erickson." 

"  Red  been  gettin'  thoughtless  again  ?  "  sez  I.  Red  Erick- 
son was  a  big  Dane  who  had  the  habit  o'  runnin  off  stock  an' 
shootin'  any  one  who  disagreed  with  him. 

The  ol'  man  merely  pointed  to  a  paper  pinned  up  on  the 
wall  offerin'  fifteen  hundred  dollars  for  Red,  dead  or 
alive.  He  hadn't  been  operatin'  on  Diamond  Dot  stuff,  so 
we  had  n't  paid  much  heed  to  him. 

We  strolled  on  over  to  Eugene's  an'  found  him  sittin' 
down  an'  talkin'  about  the  peculiar  custom  o'  guinea-pigs; 
so  we  knew  that  he  had  swallered  the  bait;  but  he  didn't 
offer  to  bet  with  us. 

Then  we  went  back  an'  asked  ol'  man  Dort  if  he  believed 
that  a  guinea-pig's  eyes  would  fall  out  if  he  was  held  up 
by  the  tail. 

"  It 's  all  rot !  "  sez  the  ol'  man,  indignant.  "  Any  one 
who  sez  such  nonsense  never  studied  the  way  eyes  is 
fastened  in.  The  tail  ain't  got  nothin'  to  do  with  it." 

"  What  kind  o'  tails  has  guinea-pigs  got  ?  "  sez  I. 

"  Why  they  got  —  "  sez  the  ol'  man,  an'  then  stopped  an' 
looked  blank.  "  What  kind  o'  tails  have  they  got  ?  " 

"  They  have  n't  got  any,"  sez  I.  "  Now  listen ;  would  you 
be  willin'  to  risk  a  little  money  to  even  up  with  Eugene  ?  " 

"  I  'd  risk  every  thing  I  got,  down  to  my  very  hide,"  sez 
the  ol'  man,  earnest  to  a  degree. 

"  Well,  then,  you  play  careful  an'  we  '11  provide  you  with 
the  cards,"  sez  I.  "  Eugene  has  some  guinea-pigs,  an'  he 
is  plannin'  to  string  you  on  a  bet.  You  come  right  along 
just  as  though  you  was  as  ignorant  as  you  look,  have  a  day 
fixed  to  decide  the  bet,  let  us  know,  an'  for  the  small  sum 


TENDER    FEELINGS  141 

of  fifty  dollars  we  '11  provide  you  with  a  guinea-pig  which 
has  a  tail." 

"  I  '11  make  a  pauper  out  of  him,"  sez  the  ol'  man.  "  I 
haven't  had  a  chance  to  get  a  bet  on  Columbus  since  I 
owned  him." 

"You  just  land  Eugene,"  sez  I,  "an'  that'll  be  sport 
enough  for  one  while." 

"  I  got  shaved  twice  to-day,"  sez  the  ol'  man  feelin'  his 
chin,  "  'cause  we  got  into  a  discussion  about  comets ;  but  I 
reckon  I  can  stand  another  to-morrow." 

The  next  day  the  old  man  asked  Eugene  what  all  kind 
o'  game  grew  in  Africa.  "  Elephants,  hippopotamusses  an' 
guinea-pigs,"  sez  Eugene. 

"  Guinea-pigs  ?  "  sez  the  ol'  man. 

"  Yes,  they  're  the  most  curious  animals  the'  is  in  exis- 
tence," sez  Eugene. 

"  How  big  are  they  ?  "  asked  ol'  man  Dort.  He  had  n't 
an  idea  in  the  world,  an'  was  beginnin'  to  think  that  if  they 
sized  up  with  elephants  an'  hippopotamusses,  he  didn't 
want  to  have  to  lift  one  by  the  tail  to  win  his  bet. 

"  They  ain't  any  bigger  'n  young  rabbits,"  sez  Eugene, 
stroppin'  his  razor ;  "  but  the  curious  part  of  'em  is  that  if 
you  hold  up  one  by  the  tail,  his  eyes  '11  drop  out." 

"  I  '11  bet  a  hundred  dollars  they  would  n't  do  it,"  sez  the 
ol'  man. 

"  That 's  a  safe  enough  bet,"  sez  Eugene,  calm  an'  easy. 
"They're  worth  all  the  way  up  to  five  hundred  dollars  a 
pair,  an'  it  ain't  likely  that  a  man  would  invest  that  amount 
in  something,  just  to  win  a  hundred-dollar  bet." 

They  sparred  back  an'  forth  for  a  couple  o'  days  until 
finally  Eugene  bet  nine  hundred  in  cash  —  all  he  had  in  the 
world — an'  his  shop  an'  fixin's,  again'  eleven  hundred  dol- 


142  FRIAR    TUCK 

lars,  that  the  old  man  could  n't  lift  a  guinea-pig  by  the 
tail  without  his  eyes  fallin'  out.  If  the  ol'  man  didn't  lift 
one  by  the  tail,  he  lost  the  bet.  They  set  the  date  for  a  week 
ahead,  an'  the  ol'  man  bet  Eugene  three  hundred  dollars  that 
he'd  win  the  bet,  takin'  Eugene's  promissory  agreement 
for  his  end  of  it. 

We  brought  in  the  freak  the  day  before  the  contest  an' 
the  ol'  man's  eyes  lit  up  when  he  see  the  tail.  It  was  n't 
much  of  a  tail  at  that;  but  it  was  a  sure  enough  tail  an' 
plenty  long  enough  to  lift  him  by,  an'  strong  enough  too, 
an'  the'  was  regular  bones  in  it,  just  like  any  tail. 

The'  was  only  a  fair  sized  crowd  of  us  on  hand  to  see 
the  test;  but  Eugene  went  through  all  the  preliminaries, 
an'  then  took  the  cover  off  his  box  an'  pointed  to  the 
guinea-pigs.  He  had  shaved  the  parts  of  'em  where  tails 
naturally  belong,  an'  when  the  boys  see  that  they  did  n't 
have  no  tails,  they  howled  with  laughter  an'  began  to  hoot 
ol'  man  Dort ;  an'  Eugene  confided  to  'em  the  plans  he  had 
for  spendin'  the  money  he  'd  won. 

Ol'  man  Dort,  he  walked  calmly  up  to  the  box,  examined 
the  guinea-pigs,  an  sez :  "  These  here  is  not  the  full- 
blooded  guinea-pigs.  The  full-blooded  ones  live  in  a  moun- 
taineous  country  an'  use  their  tails  to  steer  with  when  they 
jump  from  rock  to  rock;  while  this  kind  live  in  swamps  an' 
the  young  aligators  keep  on  eatin'  off  their  tails  until  they 
don't  have  any.  I  '11  go  get  a  thoroughbred  an'  do  my 
liftin'  on  him." 

Well  this  set  'em  back  a  good  ways;  an'  as  the  ol'  man 
was  walkin'  off  to  get  his  own  speciment,  a  good  many  bets 
was  put  up,  but  Eugene  did  n't  take  any. 

Purty  soon,  back  come  the  ol'  man;  an'  hanged  if  he 
had  n't  clipped  the  hair  off  o'  his  one's  tail  too.  He  reached 


TENDER    FEELINGS  143 

in  his  hand  an'  stroked  the  long- faced  little  duffer,  anj  sez: 
"  Gently,  George  the  Third,  gently."  Then  he  put  on  an 
anxious  look  an'  picked  up  the  guinea-pig  by  the  tail,  holdin' 
his  other  hand  underneath  to  catch  any  eyes  what  happened 
to  spill  out.  They  did  n't  none  drop  out,  an'  the  crowd  give 
a  cheer;  but  Eugene  was  all  in. 

He  was  a  bad  loser  was  Eugene,  an'  he  did  n't  join  in  the 
festivities  any.  He  just  took  up  his  two  guineas  an'  went 
back  to  his  shop,  while  the  rest  of  us  celebrated  a  few. 
After  a  time  me  an'  Spider  went  to  console  with  him  a 
little.  He  was  so  infernally  down  in  the  mouth  that  I  began 
to  get  a  little  conscience-struck.  Eugene  said  he  had  been 
savin'  up  his  money  to  pay  off  the  mortgage  on  his  birth- 
place; an'  he  made  a  purty  sad  story  out  of  it.  Fact  was, 
that  he  made  so  sad  a  story  out  of  it  that  I  decided  to  get 
him  back  his  tools  and  give  him  a  new  start. 


CHAPTER   SIXTEEN 

THEMIS   IN    THE   ROCKIES 

"  How  much  money  you  got,  Spider  ?  "  I  sez. 

"  I  reckon  I  got  sixty  dollars,"  sez  Spider. 

"  I  don't  mean  just  what  you  got  with  ya,  I  mean  how 
much  cash  do  you  possess  in  the  world." 

"  I  suppose  I  could  raise  a  hundred  an'  fifteen,"  sez  Spider, 
after  thinkin'  a  while.  "  What  do  you  want  to  know  for?  " 

"  We  got  to  give  Eugene  a  start,"  sez  I. 

Spider  looked  at  me  until  he  saw  I  was  in  earnest,  an' 
then  he  talked  out  loud.  "  What 's  the  matter  with  you  ?  " 
he  yells.  "  We  have  n't  adopted  Eugene,  have  we  ?  Why- 
for  do  we  have  to  give  him  a  start  ?  Did  n't  he  lose  at  his 
own  game.  Great  Snakes !  You  make  me  tired !  " 

"  That  was  a  low-down  trick  we  played,"  sez  I. 

"  It  was  n't  no  lower  down  'n  him  ringin'  in  a  woodchuck 
on  the  old  man ;  and  all  we  did  it  for  was  to  square  things 
up." 

"  Yes,"  sez  I ;  "  but  it  took  us  some  several  years  to 
square  it  up,  and  I  don't  intend  to  have  Eugene's  moanful 
voice  surgin'  through  my  ears  until  I  'm  able  to  think  up  a 
come-back  for  him.  I  'm  goin'  to  give  him  a  start,  and  if 
you  don't  feel  like  riskin'  your  money,  I  '11  do  it  alone." 

"  Do  you  mean  'at  you  're  just  goin'  to  pay  over  the  price 
of  his  tools,  an'  let  it  go  at  that  ?  "  sez  Spider. 

"  That  would  n't  be  any  fun,"  sez  I.  "  I  'm  goin'  to  get 
the  tools;  but  I  intend  to  get  'em  for  as  little  expense  as 


THEMIS     IN    THE    ROCKIES        145 

possible,  and  if  I  can  have  a  little  fun  out  of  it,  I  don't  in- 
tend to  pass  it  up." 

Spider  studied  it  over  a  while.  "  Well,  I  '11  risk  fifty,"  he 
sez  after  a  bit ;  so  we  went  back  to  Eugene's. 

"  Would  you  be  willin'  to  do  a  stunt  to  get  back  your 
tools  ?  "  sez  I. 

He  raised  a  pair  o'  weepy  eyes  to  me  an'  sez :  "  Aw,  the' 
ain't  no  show.  I  've  a  good  mind  to  kill  myself." 

"  Please  don't  do  that,"  sez  Spider,  who  never  could 
stand  a  bad  loser.  "  When  you  lose  your  money,  you  allus 
stand  a  chance  to  win  more  money ;  but  when  you  lose  your 
life,  why,  the'  ain't  nothin'  left  except  to  go  up  an'  find  out 
what  reward  it  earned  for  you." 

"  Aw  hell,"  muttered  Eugene. 

"Ye-es,"  agreed  Spider,  talkin'  through  his  nose,  like  a 
missionary  preacher,  "  I  reckon  that  is  about  what  you  'd 
draw,  if  you  was  to  cash  in  now;  but  if  you  stick  around 
an'  do  your  duty,  you  run  the  risk  o'  havin'  better  luck 
later  on." 

After  Spider  had  insulted  Eugene  until  he  began  to  sass 
back  a  little,  I  broke  in  and  sez  that  if  Eugene  will  agree 
to  do  what  I  tell  him,  I  '11  agree  to  get  him  back  his  outfit ; 
so  then  he  wants  to  know  what  I  have  in  mind. 

"  Are  you  willin'  to  disguise  yourself  as  a  genuwine  moun- 
tain trapper  ?  "  sez  I. 

When  I  sez  this,  Spider  exploded  a  laugh  which  would  'a' 
hurt  the  feelin's  of  a  sheep,  and  Eugene  tied  into  us  as 
wordy  as  a  fox  terrier;  but  I  soothed  him  down  an'  told 
him  I  was  in  earnest.  "  I  'm  willin'  to  do  most  anything 
to  get  my  tools  back,"  sez  Eugene ;  "  but  I  don't  see  how 
I  can  make  myself  look  like  a  genuwine  trapper." 

"  Have  you  got  any  false  wigs  and  beards  ?  "  sez  I. 


146  FRIAR    TUCK 

"  No,  I  have  n't,"  sez  he ;  "  but  I  saved  up  the  stuff  I 
reaped  off  o'  ol'  man  Dort,  and  I  reckon  I  could  make 
some." 

"  The  very  thing !  "  sez  I.  "  You  fix  up  a  rig  that  '11  make 
you  look  to  be  a  hundred  years  old ;  and  we  '11  hunt  up 
clothes  for  ya.  All  you  '11  have  to  do  will  be  to  guide  a 
green  Eastener  out  to  shoot  a  bear,  and  we  '11  have  the  bear 
and  everything  ready  for  ya." 

"  No,  ya  don't,"  sez  Eugene.  "  I  don't  fool  around  no 
bears." 

"  I  thought  you  was  tired  o'  life,"  sez  Spider. 

"  Well,  I  'm  not  so  tired  of  it  that  I  'm  willin'  to  have  it 
squeezed  out  o'  me  by  a  bear,"  sez  Eugene. 

"  This  won't  be  a  real  bear,"  sez  I ;  "  and  anyhow,  they  '11 
be  a  ravine  between  you  and  it.  You  claimed  once  to  be 
a  show  actor,  and  all  you  '11  have  to  do  will  be  to  pertend 
'at  you  're  actin'." 

"  I  once  was  a  genuwine  amateur  actor,"  sez  Eugene, 
"  and  if  you  '11  make  it  clear  to  me  that  there  ain't  no  danger, 
I  '11  take  the  job." 

Then  I  explained  just  what  he  had  to  do;  and  after  this 
me  an'  Spider,  who  was  now  keen  for  the  outcome,  went 
around  to  dicker  with  ol'  man  Dort.  He  was  bumpin' 
around  among  the  clouds,  so  we  did  n't  have  any  trouble  in 
buyin'  back  Eugene's  stuff  on  time.  When  I  asked  him 
what  he  'd  charge  for  Columbus,  the  woodchuck,  he  gave 
a  snort,  and  said  he  'd  throw  him  in  for  good  measure ;  so 
I  told  him  to  just  keep  him  out  o'  sight  for  a  few  days,  and 
we  started  back  to  Eugene's. 

"  What  do  you  want  with  that  dog-gone  woodchuck  ?  " 
asked  Spider. 

"  I  want  him  to  take  the  part  of  a  grizzly  bear,"  sez  I. 


THEMIS    IN    THE    ROCKIES        147 

Spider  stopped  an'  looked  at  me.  "  This  is  goin'  too  far," 
sez  he.  "  It 's  bad  enough  to  try  to  fool  some  one  into 
believin'  'at  Eugene  's  a  genuwine  trapper ;  but  you  could  n't 
make  a  rag  doll  believe  'at  Columbus  was  a  grizzly  bear." 

"  You  go  borrow  that  squaw  dress  from  Ike  Spargle,  an' 
then  we'll  see  how  much  like  a  trapper  Eugene '11  look," 
sez  I. 

I  went  on  an'  found  'at  Eugene  had  done  a  master  job  o' 
wig  makin',  even  fixin'  false  eyebrows,  an'  when  he  put 
on  ol'  man  Dort's  hair-crop  he  looked  older  'n  the  human 
race.  As  soon  as  Spider  came  in  with  the  squaw  dress,  we 
put  it  on  Eugene;  and  while  he  didn't  look  like  anything 
I  'd  ever  seen  before,  he  looked  more  like  the  first  man  'at 
ever  started  trappin'  than  like  anything  else,  an'  Spider 
Kelley  nearly  had  a  convulsion. 

We  bunked  with  Eugene  that  night ;  but  he  kept  us  awake 
bemoanin'  his  cruel  fate  until  Spider  threatened  to  drown 
him  head  first  in  a  bucket  o'  water  and  after  that  we  had  a 
little  go  at  slumberin'.  I  routed  'em  out  about  two  an' 
drilled  'em  up  to  the  high  ground  above  Spear  Crick,  where 
we  waited  until  sun-up.  Eugene  was  wearin'  his  trapper 
riggin',  and  in  the  starlight,  he  sure  was  a  ghastly  sight. 

Just  across  from  us  on  the  other  side  o'  the  crick  was 
Sholte's  Knoll,  and  when  the  sun  rose,  I  lined  us  up  to  be 
just  in  a  direct  line  with  it  across  the  knoll.  Both  Eugene 
and  Spider  bothered  me  with  questions  and  discouragin' 
kicks;  but  I  felt  purty  sure  my  scheme  would  work,  and 
only  told  'em  what  was  really  for  their  good. 

The  crick  ran  south  in  a  gorge,  and  just  below  us  it  ran 
into  Rock  River,  which  came  from  the  east  and  made  a 
sharp  turn  to  the  south  just  where  Spear  Crick  ran  into  it. 
After  the  sun  was  up,  we  climbed  down  a  circlin'  trail  until 


i48  FRIAR    TUCK 

we  came  to  Rock  River.  Eugene  refused  to  try  to  ford  it ; 
but  Spider  and  I  went  across  and  up  to  Ivan's  Knoll.  Rock 
River  was  bigger  than  Spear  Crick,  and  Ivan's  Knoll  was 
bigger  than  Sholte's  Knoll;  but  not  one  tenderfoot  in  a 
million  could  have  told  'em  apart,  and  Spider  got  gleeful  at 
the  plan  —  except  that  he  kept  at  me  to  know  who  I  was 
tryin'  to  land.  Back  of  Ivan's  Knoll  was  a  round  hole  about 
ten  feet  across,  called  the  Bottomless  Pit,  because  the'  was 
no  bottom  to  it.  After  examinin'  this  place,  we  went  on 
and  crossed  Rock  River  again  until  we  came  out  at  Sholte's 
Knoll  across  from  where  the  shootin'  was  to  be  done. 

"  What  you  are  to  do,  Spider,"  sez  I,  "  is  to  be  at  this 
place  before  dawn  with  Columbus  tied  by  a  stout  cord.  Tie 
him  to  the  rock  at  the  south  end  of  the  knoll  by  a  weak 
cord,  then  pass  your  stout  cord  up  over  that  jag  o'  rock 
at  the  top,  and  just  as  soon  as  the  sun  hits  the  knoll,  pull 
hard  enough  to  break  the  weak  cord,  lead  him  gently  up  the 
slope  until  he  has  been  shot  at  several  times,  then  —  " 

"  Is  Eugene,  that  genuwine,  ancient  trapper  goin'  to  do 
the  shootin'  ?  "  interrupted  Spider. 

"  He  is  not,"  sez  I.  "  If  Columbus  gets  shot,  all  you  '11 
have  to  do  will  be  to  wind  around  to  Boggs  and  meet  me 
there.  If  he  don't  get  shot,  you  can  either  turn  him  adrift, 
kill  him  yourself,  or  pack  him  back  to  ol'  man  Dort's,  ac- 
cordin'  to  the  dictates  o'  your  own  conscience.  I  '11  bring 
the  party  'at  does  the  shootin'  up  to  Ivan's  Knoll,  an'  make 
him  think  the  bear  has  fallen  down  the  Bottomless  Pit  after 
he  was  shot." 

"  Happy,"  sez  Spider,  "  hanged  if  I  believe  it  '11  go 
through ;  and  I  won't  be  a  sucker  unless  you  tell  me  who  is 
to  do  the  shootin'." 

"  Horace,"  sez  I,  "  Horace  Walpole  Bradford." 


THEMIS    IN    THE    ROCKIES        149 

Spider's  face  changed  expression  a  half  dozen  times  in 
two  moments ;  but  he  did  n't  have  any  more  kicks ;  so  we 
went  back  to  Eugene,  and  took  him  up  to  a  deserted  cabin, 
where  he  was  to  stay  until  needed.  I  left  him  and  Spider  to 
fix  up  the  cabin,  while  I  went  back  to  the  Dot  to  fix  up 
Horace.  Horace  had  a  lot  o'  money;  but  it  did  go 
again'  me  to  make  him  pay  for  Engene's  outfit  by  puttin' 
up  a  practical  joke  on  him.  Still,  I  felt  called  upon  to 
square  it  up  with  Eugene,  and  this  seemed  the  fairest 
way. 

When  I  reached  the  Dot,  Horace  came  forth  to  meet  me ; 
and  he  was  so  glad  to  see  me  'at  I  purt'  nigh  gave  up  the 
scheme;  but  I  had  gone  too  far  to  back  out  now,  so  I 
acted  cool,  and  cut  him  short  with  my  answers. 

After  supper  I  got  Tank  started  on  bear.  He  saw  I  had 
something  up  my  sleeve,  so  he  talked  bear  until  Horace's 
mouth  began  to  water.  "  I  'd  give  a  hundred  dollars,  just 
to  get  a  shot  at  a  bear,"  sez  Horace. 

"  This  ain't  the  time  o'  the  year  to  hunt  bear,"  sez  I. 
"  Food  's  so  common  at  this  season  that  a  bear  spends  most 
of  his  time  loafin' ;  and  it 's  hard  to  get  sight  o'  one.  Course, 
if  you  was  to  go  to  a  professional  hunter,  he  'd  know  where 
bears  were  spendin'  their  vacation;  but  it  might  take  a 
month  for  one  of  us  to  root  one  out." 

"  Do  you  know  of  any  professional  hunters  ?  "  sez  he. 

I  didn't  say  nothin',  and  Tank  told  of  some  he  knew 
several  hundred  miles  off.  After  Tank  had  talked  himself 
out,  I  mentioned  careless  like  that  old  Pierre  La  Blanc 
was  livin'  less  'n  twenty  miles  away ;  but  that  I  doubted  if 
he  'd  take  a  bear-huntin'  job.  I  went  on  to  state  that  he  had 
money  saved  up,  and  it  would  take  a  sight  o'  coin  to  tempt 
him. 


i So  FRIAR    TUCK 

"  I  'd  give  five  hundred  dollars  for  a  shot  at  a  real  grizzly," 
sez  Horace. 

"  Did  you  ever  use  a  rifle?"  sez  I. 

"Ask  Tank,"  sez  Horace. 

Tank  told  about  Horace  havin'  borrowed  ol'  Cast  Steel's 
forty-five-seventy,  and  that  he  had  learned  to  hit  a  mark 
with  it  in  able  shape.  Before  we  turned  in  that  night,  I 
had  let  Horace  tease  me  into  takin'  him  over  to  Pierre's 
next  day. 

We  reached  the  old  cabin  next  afternoon,  and  found  it 
lookin'  purty  comfortable.  Eugene  had  soiled  his  hands 
and  what  part  of  his  face  showed;  and  he  certainly  did 
look  outlandish.  He  could  act  some,  I  '11  say  that  for  him ; 
and  he  pertended  so  natural  that  it  took  Tank  a  half  hour 
to  tell  who  he  was.  He  did  n't  talk  much,  but  when  he 
did  he  used  broken  French,  and  he  made  a  contract  with 
Horace  to  get  the  five  hundred  as  soon  as  he  had  showed 
him  the  bear,  Tank  to  hold  the  check. 

Eugene  could  n't  get  food  through  his  whiskers ;  so  he 
said  most  of  his  teeth  were  gone,  and  et  his  supper  in  pri- 
vate. After  supper,  I  stole  down  the  gulch  and  found 
Spider  waitin'.  He  promised  to  be  on  hand  the  next  mornin' 
and  we  turned  in  early. 

Next  mornin'  we  started  at  three,  and  took  up  our  place 
at  the  mark  I  had  made  across  from  Sholte's  Knoll.  Horace 
thought  it  perfectly  wonderful  that  the  old  trapper  would 
know  exactly  where  a  grizzly  bear  would  be  at  sun-up ;  and 
he  chattered  constant  in  a  hushed  voice.  We  told  him  it 
was  a  full  quarter  across  to  the  knoll,  and  he  had  a  regular 
ecstasy  about  how  deceivin'  the  atmosphere  was  —  which 
was  rank  libel,  the  atmosphere  bein'  about  the  least  de- 
ceivin' member  o'  that  party. 


THEMIS    IN    THE    ROCKIES        151 

Presently,  I  caught  the  smell  o'  dawn,  and  I  told  Horace 
to  keep  his  eyes  glued  on  Chimney  Peak,  a  little  over  twenty 
miles  to  the  west.  He  did  so,  and  in  about  five  minutes,  a 
gob  o'  rich  crimson  splashed  on  it,  rippled  down  the  sides, 
and  poured  along  the  foothills  at  the  bottom.  Horace  gave 
a  gasp.  You  don't  see  such  a  dawn  as  that  with  your  eyes 
alone;  you  see  it  with  somethin'  inside  your  bosom;  and 
when  I  saw  the  gleam  in  Horace's  eyes,  it  made  me  feel 
ashamed  of  what  I  was  up  to;  but  I  couldn't  stop  just  for 
this;  so  I  nudged  Eugene,  and  that  hoary  old  trapper 
growled  out  to  Horace  to  watch  the  knoll,  or  he  'd  miss  his 
chance. 

Horace  was  surprised  to  see  the  east  still  in  a  black 
shadow.  He  started  to  speak  words  about  it,  but  just  then 
the  sun,  lookin'  like  an  acre  of  red  fire,  jumped  up  from 
behind  Sholte's  Knoll  like  a  sacred  jack-rabbit. 

The  knoll  was  consid'able  higher  than  us,  and  just  as  the 
sun  was  half-circle  behind  it,  a  gigantic  form  started  to  walk 
across  it  from  south  to  north.  I  knew,  positive,  that  this 
was  Columbus  the  woodchuck;  but  it  was  just  all  I  could 
do  to  believe  it,  myself,  and  Horace  thought  it  was  the 
biggest  silver-tip  in  creation.  I  did  n't  think  the  woodchuck 
ran  much  risk  of  gettin'  shot;  but  Horace  didn't  lose  his 
nerve  a  particle.  He  banged  away,  Columbus  gave  a  lurch, 
took  a  snap  at  his  side,  and  rolled  out  o'  sight  behind  the 
knoll,  as  natural  as  a  fried  egg. 

Horace  jumped  up  and  down,  hugged  himself,  slapped  us 
on  the  back,  and  almost  knocked  the  aged  trapper's  fur  off ; 
but  if  he  had,  I  doubt  if  he  would  have  noticed  it,  he  was 
so  eager  to  get  to  his  first  bear. 

We  wound  down  the  path,  and  he  complained  about  it 
bein'  so  much  farther  'n  he  had  expected ;  but  I  spoke  a 


152  FRIAR    TUCK 

few  words  about  the  atmosphere,  and  he  was  soothed. 
When  we  struck  Rock  River,  he  was  surprised  to  see  how 
much  wider  it  was  than  it  looked  from  where  he  'd  shot ; 
but  he  did  n't  falter  none  about  goin'  in ;  while  I  purt'  nigh 
had  to  twist  off  the  -  .a!  trapper's  arm  before  he  'd  get 
his  feet  wet.  The  .  .  ^r  was  purty  high,  and  Tank  and  I 
had  our  hands  full  gettin'  'em  across. 

We  climbed  the  trail  on  the  other  side  to  Ivan's  Knoll. 
This  was  about  a  mile  south  o'  Sholte's  Knoll,  and  natu- 
rally I  did  n't  expect  to  find  any  game  on  the  other  side  of 
it;  so  you  can  judge  my  feelin's  when  we  got  around  to 
the  other  side,  and  saw  that  woodchuck's  carcass,  lyin'  flat 
on  its  back  with  its  front  feet  folded  across  a  piece  o'  paper. 

Horace  saw  it,  too ;  but  he  was  n't  interested  at  first,  and 
dove  all  about,  lookin'  for  his  bear.  He  was  plumb  wild; 
but  finally  he  picked  up  the  piece  o'  paper,  and  read  what 
was  wrote  on  it  in  scrawly  letters,  which  I  knew  to  be  the 
work  o'  Spider  Kelley :  "  Before  I  was  shot  I  was  a  grizzly 
bar  but  it  made  me  feel  so  small  to  get  shot  by  a  tender- 
foot that  I  have  shrank  to  what  you  see  befor  you." 

That  confounded  Kelley  had  n't  been  able  to  resist  workin' 
the  joke  back  on  me ;  so  he  had  toted  Columbus  down  from 
Sholte's  Knoll,  and  then  skipped.  I  knew  I  would  n't  see 
him  for  some  time  —  but  I  also  knew  I  would  n't  forget 
what  was  comin'  to  him  when  I  did. 

Horace  read  the  note  through  in  silence,  then  he  looked 
at  the  remains  of  the  woodchuck,  then  he  read  the  note 
again,  and  his  face  got  like  a  sunset.  He  read  the  note  once 
more,  and  then  he  leaped  through  the  air  for  that  veteran 
trapper,  and  grabbed  him  by  the  beard.  The  beard  and  wig 
came  off  in  his  hands,  and  Eugene  started  to  flee,  with 
Horace  a  close  second,  kickin'  the  seat  o'  that  squaw  dress  at 


THEMIS     IN    THE    ROCKIES        153 

every  jump.  Horace  was  in  able  shape,  and  Eugene  was 
flimsy ;  so  when  he  tripped  and  rolled  over,  Horace  got  him 
by  the  ears,  and  proceeded  to  beat  his  head  on  a  stone,  the 
way  Tank  had  told  about  doin'  to  the  unobligin'  old  miner. 

I  pulled  Horace  off  to  save  ibari'  ...  ylife,  and  then  Horace 
pulled  out  a  gun  and  tried  to  take  Ki^-,,ufe.  It  took  us  two 
solid  hours  to  cool  Horace  down  below  the  boilin'  point; 
and  then  he  started  off  alone  with  his  lips  set  and  his  eye- 
brows pulled  down  to  the  bridge  of  his  nose.  I  liked  him 
better  'n  ever.  He  was  as  game  as  they  made  'em,  and  had 
even  forgot  the  check  'at  ol'  Tank  Williams  was  still  holdin' ; 
but  I  was  honestly  worried  about  Eugene. 

Part  of  it  may  have  been  due  to  havin'  his  head  beat 
mellow  on  a  stone;  but  still  he  allus  did  lack  sand  when  he 
was  losin',  and  now  he  sat  tuggin'  at  his  real  hair  an'  swearin' 
he  was  ruined,  and  would  take  his  own  life  the  first  chance 
he  had.  It  was  partly  my  fault;  so  I  made  Tank  help  me 
tote  back  Eugene's  needin's  from  the  deserted  cabin  to  his 
shop,  Eugene  goin'  along  in  a  stupor  and  repeatin'  to  us 
constant  that  he  intended  to  drink  his  own  heart's  blood. 

I  sent  Tank  back  to  the  Dot  to  see  what  he  could  do  toward 
pacifyin'  Horace,  and  then  I  returned  the  squaw  dress  to 
Ike  Spargle.  He  broke  into  a  side-split  when  I  stepped  into 
his  place,  and  fairly  daluged  me  with  liquor ;  but  I  was  n't 
in  no  mood  for  it.  Ike  told  me  'at  Spider  had  gone  out  to 
the  Dot  to  notify  that  he  had  quit  temporary;  and  then  he 
was  goin'  out  to  hunt  down  Red  Erickson  for  the  bounty. 
Ike  was  equally  willin'  to  talk  about  bears  or  Red  Erickson ; 
but  I  was  n't  conversational,  so  I  went  back  to  Eugene's. 

He  had  his  door  locked,  and  at  first  refused  me  admit- 
tance; but  finally  he  let  me  in,  and  I  told  him  I  would  let 
him  have  his  outfit  on  time.  He  wouldn't  scarcely  listen 


i54  FRIAR    TUCK 

to  me;  so  the  best  I  could  do  was  to  get  his  promise  that 
he  would  n't  slay  himself  inside  the  house,  as  the  boys  were 
superstitious  again'  it,  and  would  burn  it  down.  As  it  was 
again'  my  credit  at  ol'  man  Dort's,  I  felt  more  agreeable 
toward  payin'  for  a  standin'  house,  than  for  just  the  ashes 
of  one. 

"  When  I  'm  gone,  Happy,"  sez  Eugene,  "  I  want  you  to 
send  my  watch  back  to  Sommersville,  Connecticut.  That 's 
all  I  ask  of  ya.  You  Ve  been  as  near  a  friend  to  me  as  any 
one  in  this  ungodly  community  has,  and  I  don't  bear  ya  no 
ill  will.  If  I  could  just  have  paid  off  that  mortgage  —  " 

I  shook  hands  with  him  and  went  outside,  where  I  settled 
myself  comfortable  and  made  ready  to  keep  watch  on  him 
until  he  started  to  drink.  I  felt  sure  that  if  he  'd  once  get 
to  elevatin'  a  bottle,  it  would  take  his  mind  off  suicide ;  but 
he  paced  up  and  down  inside  his  room  until  I  was  purt'  nigh 
out  o'  my  own  head. 

It  must  have  been  nine  in  the  evenin'  when  he  stole  out 
his  side  door  with  a  forty-five  under  his  coat;  and  started 
up  the  ravine  which  opens  west  o'  town,  and  I  follered  like 
a  coyote. 

He  went  up  it  about  a  mile,  an'  then  he  stopped  an'  I  flat- 
tened out  an'  crept  closer  an'  closer.  I  knew  he  would  make 
a  few  remarks  first,  even  though  he  was  alone,  an'  I  judged 
I  could  wriggle  up  close  enough  to  grab  him  in  the  act. 

He  fished  out  his  gun,  an'  I  see  that  he  did  n't  savvy  the 
use  of  it,  which  put  a  little  uncertainty  into  my  end  o'  the 
game. 

"  Farewell,  cruel  world,"  he  muttered  mournfully,  usin' 
his  gun  to  gesture  with.  "  Farewell,  sweet  dreams  of  child- 
hood ;  farewell  ambition  an'  love  an'  dear  tyranic  duty ;  fare- 
well moon  an'  stars  an'  gentle  breezes,  farewell  —  " 


THEMIS    IN    THE    ROCKIES        155 

Eugene  would  probably  have  gone  on  sayin'  farewell  to 
each  particular  thing  in  the  world  until  he  talked  himself 
to  sleep,  but  just  then  a  pebble  slipped  from  the  side  o'  the 
ravine  and  rolled  to  his  feet,  and  he  stopped  with  a  jerk  an' 
listened.  Then  he  straightened  himself  an'  sez  in  a  deter- 
mined tone :  "  Nobody  can't  prevent  me.  I  shall  end  it 
now." 

Before  I  could  move,  he  placed  the  muzzle  to  his  forehead 
an'  fired,  rollin'  over  on  his  back.  I  heard  a  sort  of  cough, 
like  when  a  man  hits  his  best  with  an  ax,  an'  somethin'  came 
plumpin'  down  the  ravine  like  an  avalanche. 

I  rushed  up,  lit  a  match,  an'  there  on  his  back  was  Eugene, 
a  small  red  welt  on  his  forehead,  but  looking  calm  and  satis- 
fied, while  almost  on  top  of  him  lay  a  man  in  a  heap.  I 
straightened  him  out,  lit  another  match,  an'  looked  at  the 
stranger.  His  hair  was  flamin'  red  an'  you  could  have  tied 
his  red  mustaches  around  the  back  of  his  neck.  He  was 
shot  through  the  forehead  an'  plumb  dead. 

I  saw  how  it  was  in  a  flash :  Eugene  had  almost  missed 
himself,  but  had  shot  Red  Erickson,  who  had  been  hidin'  up 
the  side  of  the  ravine  behind  him.  I  slipped  Red's  empty 
gun  into  his  hand,  emptied  Eugene's  gun;  an'  then  I  tore 
for  town,  gathered  up  the  boys  an'  told  'em  that  Eugene  had 
gone  up  the  ravine  bent  on  mischief.  We  got  a  lantern  and 
hurried  up  the  ravine  where  Eugene  was  just  comin'  back 
to  genuwine  consciousness  again. 

He  sat  there  with  his  head  in  his  hands  tryin'  to  cheer  him- 
self with  some  o'  the  mournfullest  moanin'  ever  I  heard. 
I  held  the  lantern  to  Red's  face  a  moment  an'  bawled  out: 
"  Boys,  this  is  Red  Erickson !  Him  an'  Eugene  has  been 
duelin',  an'  they  have  killed  each  other." 

This  gave  Eugene  his  cue  —  an'  a  cue  was  all  Eugene 


I56  FRIAR    TUCK 

ever  needed.  He  pulled  himself  together,  took  plenty  o' 
time  to  get  the  lay  o'  the  land;  an'  then  he  gave  us  a  tale 
o'  that  fight  which  laid  over  anything  I  ever  heard  in  that 
line. 

We  carried  'em  back  to  town,  an'  Eugene  was  a  hero  for 
true.  He  got  the  reward  all  right,  paid  off  his  debts,  an'  kept 
addin'  details  to  that  fight  until  it  was  enough  to  keep  a 
feller  awake  nights.  His  reputation  picked  up  right  along 
until  even  ol'  man  Dort  had  to  admit  the'  was  more  to 
Eugene  than  he  had  allowed. 

Next  day  when  I  got  back  to  the  Diamond  Dot,  I  found 
Horace  all  packed  up  for  leavin' ;  and  it  made  me  feel 
mournful  to  the  bones  o'  my  soul.  I  did  n't  know  how  much 
I  thought  of  him  until  he  started  to  pull  out ;  and  I  felt  so 
ashamed  at  what  I  had  done,  that  I  offered  to  let  him  kick 
me  all  about  the  place  if  he  'd  just  forget  about  it  and  stick 
along. 

But  Horace  had  a  stiff  neck,  all  right,  and  he  wouldn't 
give  in.  Tank  had  had  all  he  could  do  to  get  Horace  to  take 
the  check  back ;  and  now,  try  as  I  would,  I  could  n't  get  him 
to  stay.  I  drove  over  to  the  station  with  him,  and  we  had 
a  long  talk  together.  He  was  in  a  good  humor  when  he  left, 
and  I  could  see  he  was  wishful  to  stay ;  but  havin'  made  up 
his  mind,  he  stuck  to  it.  He  said  he  had  had  more  fun  while 
with  us  than  durin'  all  the  procedure  of  his  life;  and  that  if 
we  had  just  kept  the  joke  among  us  Dotters,  he  would  n't 
have  felt  so  cut  up  about  it.  I  told  him  he  had  acted  just 
right  and  that  I  had  acted  dead  wrong,  although  it  was  him 
takin'  Tank's  word  above  mine  which  had  first  made  me 
sore. 

This  was  new  light  to  him,  and  he  softened  up  immedi- 
ate. Fact  was,  we  got  purt'  nigh  girlish  before  the  train 


THEMIS    IN    THE    ROCKIES        157 

pulled  out  with  him  wavin'  his  handkerchief  from  the  back 
porch. 

I  still  feel  some  shame  about  this  episode;  and  if  any  o' 
you  fellers  ask  any  more  questions  to  lead  me  into  tellin' 
of  my  own  silly  pranks,  why,  I  '11  drive  you  off  the  place, 
and  then  get  my  lips  sewed  shut. 


CHAPTER   SEVENTEEN 

KIT   MURRAY 

AFTER  Horace  had  left,  I  felt  purty  lonely  for  a  while.  It 's 
hard  for  me  to  look  back  and  keep  things  in  regular  order ; 
because  the  different  lines  cross  each  other  and  get  mixed 
up.  Always,  little  Barbie's  affairs  came  first  with  me;  but 
I  reckon  most  of  you  have  heard  her  story,  so  I  'm  keepin' 
shy  of  it  this  time.  First  of  all  there  was  my  innermost  life, 
which  would  have  been  mostly  mine  no  matter  where  I  'd 
gone;  then  there  was  the  part  of  my  life  which  touched 
Barbie's,  and  this  was  the  best  and  the  highest  part  of  it; 
and  then  there  was  the  part  which  touched  Friar  Tuck  an' 
a  lot  of  others,  each  one  of  which  helped  to  make  me  what 
I  am ;  but  back  of  it  all  was  my  work ;  so  it 's  not  strange  if 
I  find  it  hard  to  stick  to  the  trail  of  a  story. 

Anyway,  it  was  while  I  was  f eelin'  lonesome  about  Horace 
leavin'  that  the  Friar  first  began  to  use  me  as  a  trump  card, 
and  called  on  me  for  whatever  he  happened  to  want  done. 
I  was  mighty  fond  o'  bein'  with  the  Friar;  so  I  lent  myself 
to  him  whenever  I  could,  and  we  got  mighty  well  acquainted. 
He  loved  fun  of  a  quiet  kind ;  but  the'  was  allus  a  sadness 
in  his  eyes  which  toned  down  my  natural  devilment  and 
softened  .me.  The'  was  lots  o'  things  I  used  to  enjoy  doin', 
which  I  just  couldn't  do  after  havin'  been  with  the  Friar 
a  spell,  until  I  had  give  myself  a  good  shakin',  like  a  dog 
comin'  up  out  o'  water. 

For  several  quiet  years  about  this  time,  I  used  to  act  as 


KIT    MURRAY  159 

scout  for  him,  now  and  again,  goin'  ahead  to  round  up  a 
bunch  when  he  had  time  to  give  'em  a  preachin' ;  or  goin' 
after  him  when  some  one  who  could  n't  afford  a  doctor  was 
took  sick.  We  talked  about  purt'  nigh  everything,  except 
that  some  way,  we  did  n't  talk  much  about  women  ;  so  I  was 
never  able  to  pump  his  own  story  out  of  him,  though  he 
knew  exactly  how  I  felt  toward  Barbie,  long  before  I  did 
myself. 

Durin'  these  years,  the  Friar  tried  his  best  to  get  on  terms 
with  the  Ty  Jones  crowd;  but  they  refused  to  get  friendly, 
and  the  more  he  did  to  make  things  better  in  the  territory, 
the  more  they  hated  him. 

It  was  right  after  the  spring  round-up  that  I  first  heard 
the  Friar's  name  mixed  up  with  a  woman.  This  allus  makes 
me  madder  'n  about  anything  else.  When  a  man  and  a 
woman  sin,  why,  it 's  bad  enough,  and  I  'm  not  upholdin'  it ; 
but  still  in  a  way  it 's  natural,  the  same  as  a  wolf  killin'  a 
calf.  It 's  the  cow-puncher's  business  to  kill  the  wolf  if  he 
can,  and  he  ought  to  do  it  as  prompt  as  possible.  This  is  all 
right ;  but  gossip  and  scandal  is  never  all  right. 

Gossip  and  scandal  is  like  supposin'  the  wolf  had  only 
wounded  the  calf  a  little,  and  a  posse  would  gather  and  tie 
the  two  of  'em  together,  the  wolf  and  the  wounded  calf; 
and  take  'em  into  the  center  square  of  a  town  and  keep  'em 
tied  there  for  all  to  see  until  they  had  starved  to  death ;  and 
then  to  keep  on  stirrin'  up  the  carrion  day  after  day  as  long 
as  a  shred  of  it  remained. 

The  Friar  was  allus  a  great  one  to  be  talkin'  about  the 
power  of  habits.  He  said  that  if  folks  would  just  get  into 
the  habit  of  lookin'  for  sunshiny  days,  an'  smilin'  faces  an' 
noble  deeds,  and  such  like,  that  first  thing  they  knew  they  'd 
think  the  whole  world  had  changed  for  the  better;  but  in- 


160  FRIAR    TUCK 

stead  o'  this  they  got  into  the  habit  of  lookin'  for  evil,  and 
as  that  was  what  they  were  on  the  watch  for,  o'  course  they 
found  it.  He  said  it  was  like  a  cat  watchin'  for  a  mouse. 
The  cat  would  plant  herself  in  front  of  the  mouse  hole  and 
not  do  anything  else  but  just  watch  for  the  mouse.  While 
she  would  be  on  guard,  a  king  might  be  assassinated,  a  city 
might  fall  in  an  earthquake,  and  a  ship-load  o'  people  go 
down  at  sea;  but  if  the  mouse  came  out  and  the  cat  got  it, 
she  would  amuse  herself  with  it  a  while,  eat  it  and  then 
curl  up  before  the  fire  and  purr  about  what  a  fine  day  it  had 
been,  all  because  she  had  got  what  she  had  been  lookin'  for ; 
and  the's  a  lot  in  this. 

Now,  when  I  came  to  think  it  over,  I  hadn't  heard  the 
Friar  express  himself  very  free  on  women.  I  had  heard  him 
say  to  allus  treat  'em  kind  an'  square,  the  good  ones  and 
the  bad ;  but  when  ya  come  to  ponder  over  this,  it  was  n't 
no-wise  definite.  Still  I  couldn't  believe  ill  of  him;  so  I 
took  a  vacation  an'  started  to  hunt  him  up. 

The  feller  who  had  told  me  did  n't  know  much  about  it, 
but  the  feller  who  had  told  him  knew  it  all.  When  I  found 
this  feller,  he  was  in  the  same  fix ;  and  he  sent  me  along  to 
the  one  who  had  told  him.  They  were  all  a  lot  alike  in  not 
knowin'  it  all ;  but  I  finally  found  out  who  the  girl  was. 

She  was  a  girl  named  Kit  Murray,  and  she  allus  had  been 
a  lively  young  thing  with  a  purty  face,  an'  could  ride  an' 
shoot  like  a  man.  She  had  took  part  in  a  couple  o'  frontier- 
day  exhibitions,  and  it  had  turned  her  head,  and  she  had 
gone  out  with  a  show.  When  she  had  come  back,  she  had 
put  on  more  airs  'n  ever,  and  naturally  the  boys  were  some 
wild  about  her  —  though  I  had  n't  seen  her  myself. 

News  o'  this  kind  travels  fast,  and  I  heard  buzzin'  about 
it  everywhere ;  but  it  was  just  like  all  other  scandal.  Most 


KIT    MURRAY  161 

people,  when  they  gossip,  believe  an'  tell  the  story  which 
comes  closest  to  what  they  'd  'a'  done  if  they  'd  had  the  same 
chance;  and  what  I  figured  out  to  be  true  was,  that  Olaf 
the  Swede  and  another  Cross-brander  by  the  name  o'  Bud 
Fisher  had  scrapped  about  the  girl,  Olaf  near  killin'  the 
kid  and  the  girl  runnin'  off  to  the  Friar.  Now,  all  the  good 
deeds  'at  the  Friar  had  done  had  n't  caused  much  talk ;  but 
this  news  spread  like  wild-fire;  and  a  lot  o'  those  he  had 
helped  the  most  turned  again'  him  and  said  they  wished  they 
could  find  out  where  he  was  hidin'. 

I  took  it  just  the  other  way;  I  knew  the  Friar  purty  well, 
and  what  I  feared  most  was,  that  he  wasn't  hidin'  at  all, 
and  that  Olaf  would  find  him  before  I  could  give  him 
warnin'.  It  was  two  weeks  before  I  found  the  Friar;  but 
once  I  came  upon  Olaf,  face  to  face,  and  we  eyed  each  other 
purty  close.  This  was  the  first  time  I  ever  noticed  his  eyes. 
They  were  the  queerest  eyes  I  ever  saw,  a  sort  of  blue ;  but  a 
deeper  blue,  a  bluer  blue  'n  anything  I  had  ever  seen  out- 
side a  flower.  The's  a  flower  on  the  benches  in  June  just 
the  color  of  his  eyes,  a  soft,  velvety  flower ;  but  Olaf 's  eyes 
were  n't  soft  and  velvety  the  day  we  met,  and  they  gave  me 
a  queer,  creepy  feelin'.  I  hope  I  did  n't  show  it  any ;  but  I 
did  feel  relieved  after  I  'd  passed  him. 

Finally  I  found  the  Friar,  just  as  I  might  have  expected 
—  by  the  sound  of  his  voice.  I  had  got  clear  over  into  the 
Basin  and  was  crossin'  through  Carter  Pass  when  I  heard 
his  voice  above  me,  singin'  one  of  his  marchin'  songs.  I  was 
mightily  rejoiced  to  find  him ;  but  I  had  that  all  out  of  my 
face  by  the  time  I  had  wound  around  up  to  him.  He  was 
totin'  a  log  on  his  shoulder,  and  struttin'  along  as  jaunty 
as  though  the  whole  earth  was  simply  his  backyard. 

"  Here,"  I  growls  to  him,  indignant,  "  what  do  you  mean 


162  FRIAR    TUCK 

by  makin'  such  a  noise?  Haven't  you  got  a  grain  o' 
gumption ! " 

He  looked  up  at  me  with  the  surprise  stickin'  out  from 
under  his  grin.  "  Well,  well,  well ! "  sez  he.  "  Who  are 
you  —  the  special  officer  for  the  prevention  of  noise  ?  " 

"  I  ain't  no  special  officer  of  anything,"  I  answers ;  "  but 
the's  people  lookin'  for  you,  and  you  ought  to  have  sense 
enough  to  keep  quiet." 

"  And  I  'm  lookin'  for  people,"  sez  he,  grinnin'  like  a 
boy ;  "  and  the  best  way  to  find  'em  is  by  makin'  a  noise. 
The'  ain't  any  rules  again'  walkin'  on  the  grass  up  here,  is 
there?" 

"  Olaf  the  Swede  is  after  you  on  account  o'  the  gal,"  I 
blunted ;  "  and  he  ain't  no  bluffer.  He  intends  to  do  away 
with  you  for  good  and  all ;  and  you  'd  better  be  makin'  your 
plans." 

"  Coin'  to  do  away  with  me  for  good  an'  all,"  he  repeats, 
smilin'.  "  Well,  Olaf  the  Swede  is  a  gross  materialist.  The 
worst  he  can  do  will  be  to  tear  off  my  wrapper  and  leave  me 
free  to  find  out  a  lot  of  things  I  'm  deeply  interested  in. 
Why,  Happy,  you  're  all  worked  up !  You  've  lost  your  phi- 
losophy, you  've  become  a  f rettish  old  woman.  What  you 
need  is  a  right  good  scare  to  straighten  you  up  again. 
This  Olaf  the  Swede  is  part  of  Ty  Jones's  outfit,  is  n't 
he?" 

"  He  is,"  I  replied,  shakin'  my  head  in  warnin',  "  and 
the  whole  gang  '11  back  him  up  in  this." 

"  Good !  "  sez  the  Friar,  smackin'  his  hand.  "  I  've  wanted 
an  openin'  wedge  into  that  outfit  ever  since  I  came  out  here. 
Of  a  truth,  the  Lord  doth  move  in  a  mysterious  way,  his 
wonders  to  perform."  • 

"  Well,  he  certainly  will  have  to  perform  some  mysterious 


KIT    MURRAY  163 

wonders  to  get  you  out  of  this  scrape,"  I  said.  I  was  put 
out  at  the  way  he  took  it. 

"  Don't  be  irreverent,  Happy,"  sez  he,  the  joy-lights 
dancin'  in  his  eyes.  "  We  are  all  merely  instruments,  and 
why  should  an  instrument  take  it  upon  itself  to  question  the 
way  it  is  used.  Where  is  this  Olaf  ?  " 

"  I  met  him  yesterday ;  and  for  all  I  know,  he  's  been  fol- 
lowin'  me." 

"  Fine,  fine !  "  sez  the  Friar.  "  Now,  you  go  on  back  to 
the  Diamond  Dot,  and  I  '11  go  back  over  your  trail  and  save 
Olaf  as  much  bother  as  possible." 

"  I  'm  goin'  along  with  you,"  I  sez. 

"  No,"  sez  he. 

"  Yes,"  sez  I. 

"  It  '11  make  folks  think  'at  I  'm  afraid  for  my  skin,  and 
have  you  along  for  protection,"  sez  he,  gettin'  earnest. 

"  If  you  had  good  judgment,  you  would  be  afraid  for  your 
skin,"  sez  I.  "  I  tell  you  that  Olaf  is  after  your  blood.  He  's 
one  o'  the  worst ;  he  kills  with  his  bare  hands  when  he  gets 
the  chance." 

"  Fine,  fine !  "  sez  the  Friar  again,  his  eyes  glowin'  joy- 
ous. "  I  'd  have  a  right  to  defend  myself  with  my  hands, 
Happy.  I  would  have  a  right  to  do  this,  for  the  sake  of 
Olaf,  you  see  —  to  prevent  him  from  risking  his  own  soul 
by  committin'  murder.  This  is  a  great  chance  for  me, 
Happy ;  now,  please,  please,  go  on  back  like  a  good  fellow." 

I  was  secretly  tickled  at  the  argument  the  Friar  had  put 
up  for  a  chance  at  physical  warfare  —  and  a  barehand  fight 
between  him  and  Olaf  would  have  been  worth  goin'  a  long 
way  to  see  —  but  I  was  as  obstinate  as  either  of  'em;  so 
I  just  said  'at  I  was  goin'  along. 

"  Well,  you  're  not  goin'  with  me,"  sez  the  Friar,  as  pouty 


164  FRIAR    TUCK 

as  a  schoolboy.  "  I  '11  not  speak  to  ya,  and  I  '11  not  have  a 
thing  to  do  with  ya  " ;  and  he  threw  down  his  log  and  glared 
at  me. 

I  took  a  certain  amount  o'  pride  because  the  Friar  lived 
up  to  his  own  standards;  but  I  also  found  a  certain  deep- 
rooted  amusement  in  havin'  him  slip  out  from  under  'em  for 
a  spell  and  display  a  human  disposition  which  was  purty 
much  kindred  to  my  own.  "  What  do  you  purpose  doin' 
with  that  club,  Friar?"  I  asked,  pointin'  to  the  log  he  had 
flung  down. 

He  pulled  in  his  glare  and  looked  to  be  a  little  discom- 
posed. "  Why  I  —  I  'm  livin'  in  a  cave  I  got  back  there." 

"  Are  you  dead  set  again'  havin'  a  little  company  ?  "  sez  I, 
slow  an'  insinuating  "  or  are  ya  livin'  alone  ?  " 

First  off,  he  was  inclined  to  be  resentful,  then  he  grinned, 
shouldered  his  log  again,  and  said :  "  Come  and  see." 

I  follered  him  back  into  the  hills  until  we  came  to  a  little 
park  in  which  his  ponies  were  grazin',  and  then  I  hobbled 
mine,  cached  my  gear  alongside  his,  and  trailed  after  him 
again.  His  path  turned  a  crag  and  then  skirted  along  the 
edge  of  a  cliff  as  straight  up  and  down  as  the  real  truth. 
The  path  kept  gettin'  narrower,  until  every  time  the  Friar 
turned  a  corner  ahead  of  me,  I  expected  to  see  him  walkin' 
off  in  the  air  with  the  log  still  on  his  shoulder. 

Presently  I  turned  a  corner  around  which  he  had  disap- 
peared, and  there  was  n't  a  soul  in  sight.  The  ledge  still 
led  along  the  cliff;  but  it  had  got  thinner  than  a  lawyer's 
excuse,  and  a  worm  could  n't  have  walked  along  it  without 
hangin'  on.  While  I  stood  there  puzzlin'  about  it,  a  hand 
reached  out  o'  the  side  of  the  cliff,  and  the  Friar's  voice  said 
mockingly :  "  Take  my  hand,  little  one ;  and  then  shut  your 
eyes  for  fear  you  might  get  dizzy." 


KIT    MURRAY  165 

Then  I  saw  a  jag  of  rock  stickin'  out  just  above  my  head, 
I  grabbed  it  with  my  left  hand,  and  swung  around  into  what 
was  the  mouth  of  a  cave.  It  was  nothin'  but  a  crack  about 
eighteen  inches  wide,  and  the  far  side  was  sunk  in  enough 
to  keep  it  hid  from  where  I  was  standin'.  The  Friar  was 
standin'  a  few  feet  back  in  the  entrance  with  his  log  leanin' 
up  again'  the  side.  "  I  know  not  what  other  animals  may 
have  sought  shelter  here,"  he  said,  "  but  for  the  past  three 
years  this  has  been  my  castle,  and,  Happy  Hawkins,"  — 
here  the  Friar  bowed  low  —  "  obstinate  and  unreasonable  as 
you  are,  I  offer  you  a  hearty  welcome." 

The  Friar  said  this  in  fun,  but  the'  was  an  undertone  to 
it  which  tightened  the  laces  around  my  heart  consid'able. 
Well,  that  cave  was  a  sure  enough  surprise;  he  had  three 
or  four  pelts  and  a  couple  of  Injun  blankets  on  the  floor, 
he  had  a  couple  o'  barrels  fixed  to  catch  snow  water, 
he  had  some  cookin'  tools;  and  books!  Say,  he  must 
have  had  as  many  as  a  hundred  books,  all  of  'em  hard- 
shells,  and  lookin'  so  edicated  an'  officious  that  I  had  to 
take  off  my  hat  before  I  had  nerve  enough  to  begin  readin' 
the  titles. 

After  I  'd  taken  everything  in,  I  sat  down  in  an  easy  chair 
he  'd  made  out  o'  saplin's  and  rawhide,  and  looked  all  about ; 
but  I  could  n't  see  any  signs  of  their  bein'  any  other  rooms 
to  this  cave;  and  then  I  jumped  square  for  the  mark,  and 
sez :  "  Friar,  the's  a  lot  o'  talk  about  you  havin'  run  off  with 
Kit  Murray.  Now  I  want  the  straight  of  it." 

His  face  went  grave  and  a  little  hurt.  "  It 's  strange,"  he 
said  after  a  time,  "  how  hard  it  is  for  a  man  to  believe  in  his 
own  guilt,  and  how  easy  for  him  to  believe  in  the  guilt  of  his 
neighbor.  Have  you  had  any  dinner  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  sez  I.    "  I  did  n't  know  just  where  I  was  headin' ; 


166  FRIAR    TUCK 

so  I  et  three  different  times  this  mornin'  to  make  sure  of 
havin'  enough  to  run  on  in  case  of  emergency." 

"  It 's  a  fine  thing  to  be  an  outdoor  animal,"  sez  the  Friar, 
smilin'.  "  Well  then,  I  've  made  up  my  mind  to  take  you  to 
see  Kit  Murray." 

He  did  n't  waste  any  time  askin'  me  not  to  talk  about 
what  was  other  folks'  affairs;  he  just  went  to  the  door, 
grabbed  the  jag  of  rock,  swung  around  to  the  ledge,  and  I 
follered  after. 

We  saddled  up,  rode  down  a  windin'  path  'at  I  'd  never 
heard  of  before,  and  then  rode  up  again  until  we  came  to  a 
little  clump  o'  swamp  shrubbery,  backed  up  again'  the  north 
face  o'  Mount  Mizner.  We  follered  a  twisty  path  through 
this  and  finally  came  out  on  an  open  space  in  which  stood  a 
fair-sized  cabin.  He  whistled  a  five-note  call,  and  the  door 
was  opened  by  an  old  woman  who  was  a  stranger  to  me. 
"  Mother  Shipley,  this  is  Happy  Hawkins,"  sez  he.  "  How  's 
Kit?" 

The  old  woman  gave  me  a  gimlet  look,  and  then  her  sharp 
features  expanded  to  a  smile,  and  she  bobbed  her  head. 
"  Kit 's  gettin'  hard  to  manage,"  sez  she. 

We  went  into  the  cabin,  and  found  Kit  with  a  bandage 
around  her  ankle,  sittin'  in  a  rockin'  chair,  and  lookin'  pa- 
tiently disgusted.  She  was  a  fine-lookin'  girl,  with  a  fair 
streak  of  boy  in  her,  and  she  had  never  had  enough  practice 
at  bein'  an  invalid  to  shine  at  it.  Her  face  lit  up  at  the  Friar ; 
but  her  gaze  was  mighty  inquirin'  when  she  turned  it  at  me. 

"  You  know  Happy  Hawkins,  don't  ya  ?  "  sez  the  Friar. 
She  nodded  her  head,  and  he  went  on.  "  Well,  he  's  one  o' 
the  fellers  you  can  trust,  if  you  trust  him  entire ;  but  he  's 
got  such  a  bump  of  curiosity  that  if  you  don't  tell  it  all  to 
him  in  the  first  place,  he  can't  do  no  other  work  until  he 


KIT    MURRAY  167 

finds  it  out  on  his  own  hook.  He 's  my  friend,  and  he  '11 
be  your  friend ;  so  I  want  you  to  tell  him  just  how  things 
are,  and  then  he  '11  be  under  obligations  to  do  whatever  we 
want  him  to." 

So  Kit  cut  loose  and  told  me  her  story.  Her  father,  ol' 
Jim  Murray,  had  got  crippled  up  about  ten  years  before,  and 
since  then  had  become  a  professional  homesteader,  nosin' 
out  good  places,  an'  then  sellin'  out  to  the  big  cattle  outfits. 
He  also  made  it  his  business  to  find  ways  to  drive  off  genu- 
wine  homesteaders;  and  in  addition  to  this  he  was  a  home 
tyrant  and  hard  to  live  with.  He  allus  had  plenty  o'  money, 
but  was  generally  dead  broke  when  it  came  to  pleasant  words 
an'  smiles  —  which  was  why  Kit  had  gone  off  with  the 
show. 

While  she  was  away,  she  had  married  a  low-grade  cuss, 
who  had  misused  her  beyond  endurance;  so  when  he  had 
skipped  with  another  woman,  she  had  come  back  to  the  old 
man.  She  did  n't  want  folks  'at  knew  her  to  find  out  how 
bad  hit  she  'd  been ;  so  she  had  tried  to  bluff  it  out ;  but  the 
young  fellers  kept  fallin'  in  love  with  her  and  wantin'  to 
marry  her.  She  had  n't  meant  no  harm  ;  but  she  had  played 
one  again'  the  other,  hopin'  they  'd  soon  have  their  feelin's 
hurt  and  let  her  alone.  This  was  a  fool  notion,  but  she  had 
been  honest  in  it. 

Bud  Fisher,  the  Texas  kid  in  the  Ty  Jones  outfit,  had  got 
daffy  about  her ;  and  then  one  night  at  a  dance  she  had  shot 
some  smiles  into  the  eyes  of  Olaf  the  Swede.  She  said  he 
was  such  a  glum-lookin'  cuss  she  had  no  idee  he  would  take 
it  serious ;  but  he  had  stood  lookin'  into  her  eyes  with  his 
queer  blue  ones,  until  she  had  felt  sort  o'  fainty ;  and  from 
that  on,  he  had  declared  war  on  all  who  glanced  at  her. 

Bud  Fisher  thought  it  a  fine  joke  for  Olaf  to  fall  in  love, 


i68  FRIAR    TUCK 

and  he  had  teased  him  to  the  limit.  This  made  a  bad  condi- 
tion, and  all  through  the  spring  round-up,  each  had  done  as 
much  dirt  as  possible  to  the  other ;  but  Ty  was  mighty  strict 
about  his  men  fightin'  each  other ;  so  they  had  n't  come  to  a 
clash. 

Finally  the  kid  brags  that  he  is  goin'  to  elope  with  Kit; 
and  then  Olaf  kicks  off  his  hobbles  an'  starts  to  stampede. 
The  kid  was  wise  enough  to  vamoose;  so  Olaf  rides  down 
to  ol'  man  Murray's,  and  reads  the  riot  act  to  him.  Kit  was 
hidin'  in  the  back  room  and  heard  it  all.  He  told  the  old 
man  that  he  would  slaughter  any  one  who  eloped  with  Kit 
or  who  had  a  hand  in  it ;  and  then  he  had  gone  back  to  hunt 
the  kid  again. 

The  ol'  man  turned  in  and  gave  Kit  a  complete  harrowin' 
as  soon  as  Olaf  had  left  and  she  had  told  him  pointedly  that 
she  'd  eat  dirt  before  she  'd  eat  his  food  again ;  so  she  sad- 
dled her  pony  and  started  to  ride  without  knowin'  where. 
Her  pony  had  slipped  on  Carter  Pass  and  she  had  sprained 
her  ankle  so  bad  she  couldn't  stand.  Just  at  this  junction, 
the  Friar  had  come  along,  and  had  put  her  up  on  his  horse 
and  held  her  on  with  one  arm  about  her,  because  the  pain 
in  her  ankle  made  her  head  light.  On  the  way  they  came 
smack  up  again'  the  kid,  and  he  gave  'em  a  grin,  and 
gone  on  without  askin'  questions. 

He  went  straight  to  Olaf,  and  told  him  that  Kit  had  eloped 
with  the  Friar.  The  Friar  had  brought  her  up  to  Shipley's, 
they  havin'  been  friends  of  his  in  Colorado.  They  had  a 
daughter  livin'  up  in  Billings,  Montana ;  and  as  soon  as  her 
ankle  could  stand  it,  Kit  was  goin'  up  to  live  with  the 
daughter,  she  havin'  three  little  children  and  a  railroad  hus- 
band who  was  away  from  home  more  'n  half  the  time. 

This  was  the  whole  o'  the  story;    but  you  can  easy  see 


KIT    MURRAY  169 

what  a  fine  prospect  it  made  for  gossip,  and  also  what  a  fine 
time  a  young  imp  like  Bud  Fisher  could  have  with  a  sober 
feller  like  Olaf .  Olaf  would  n't  have  just  grounds  for  makin' 
away  with  Bud  for  doin'  nothin'  except  grin,  so  long  as  the 
Friar  remained  alive  with  the  girl  in  his  keepin'.  It  was  a 
neat  little  mess;  and  from  what  we  found  out  afterwards, 
the  kid  was  as  irritatin'  as  a  half-swallered  cockle-burr. 

Big,  silent  fellers  like  Olaf  are  just  like  big,  new  boilers. 
A  little  leaky  boiler  fizzes  away  all  the  time,  but  when  it 
comes  to  explode,  it  has  n't  anything  on  hand  to  explode 
with;  while  a  big,  tight  boiler,  when  it  does  go  off,  gen- 
erally musses  up  the  landscape  consid'able ;  and  when  Olaf 
started  to  stampede  he  made  more  noise  in  a  week  'n  Bud 
Fisher  had  in  his  whole  life. 

When  Kit  had  finished  tellin'  me  the  story,  I  shook  hands 
with  her,  and  said  that  while  she  had  n't  used  the  best 
judgment  the'  was,  she  had  probably  used  the  best  she  had; 
and  that  it  was  more  the  men's  fault  than  hers,  so  she  could 
count  on  me  as  far  as  I  could  travel.  Then  I  went  outside 
while  the  Friar  and  ol'  Mother  Shipley  fixed  up  her  ankle. 

They  all  seemed  pleased  about  the  way  it  was  healin',  and 
after  it  was  tied  up,  Kit  stood  on  it  and  even  took  a  few 
steps.  It  twisted  her  face  a  time  or  two  at  first ;  but  after 
she  'd  gone  across  the  room  and  back  a  few  times,  she  said 
it  felt  better 'n  it  had  for  years.  This  made  us  all  laugh, 
'cause  fact  was,  she  hadn't  been  housed  in  near  up  to  the 
average  of  a  sprained  ankle.  The  Friar  allowed  'at  she  'd 
be  fit  to  travel  day  after  the  next ;  so  it  was  planned  to  start 
in  the  evenin',  and  for  both  of  us  to  go  with  her.  Then  we 
had  an  early  supper  an'  started  home. 

On  the  way,  I  complained  about  the  foolish  way  in  which 
Kit  had  acted,  for  the  sole  purpose  of  drawin'  the  Friar  out 


i;o  FRIAR    TUCK 

and  gettin'  his  views  on  women.  Nearly  always  when  I  got 
him  started,  I  was  able  to  pick  up  some  little  sayin'  which 
furnished  me  with  more  thought-food  than  his  blocked-out 
sermons  did. 

"  Of  course  Kit  was  foolish,"  he  admitted ;  "  but  what 
show  has  she  ever  had?  Her  father  never  was  fit  to  bring 
her  up ;  and  he  did  n't  even  do  the  best  he  could.  A  woman 
has  more  vital  strength  than  a  man,  because  the  future  of 
the  race  depends  on  her;  but  she  also  has  more  emotions, 
so  'at  the  wear  an'  tear  is  greater.  Man,  on  the  other  hand, 
has  more  muscle  'n  woman,  and  more  brutality.  Foolin' 
man  has  been  the  best  way  a  woman  had  to  fight  for  a  good 
many  centuries;  and  this  was  the  way  poor  Kit  tried  to 
fight.  The  plain,  simple  truth  generally  works  best;  but 
it  takes  wisdom  to  see  this,  and  wisdom  is  seldom  anything 
more  than  the  dregs  o'  folly.  The'  was  no  one  to  teach  Kit 
wisdom;  so  she  has  had  to  strain  off  her  own  folly;  but 
she  is  a  fine,  brave  girl,  and  I  think  she  will  profit  by 
experience." 

Now  this  was  a  new  thought  to  me,  about  wisdom  bein' 
nothin'  but  the  dregs  o'  folly ;  but  it 's  a  good  tough  thought, 
and  I  've  had  a  heap  o'  chewin'  on  it  since  then ;  so  I  feel 
repaid  in  havin'  took  sides  again'  Kit  and  lurin'  the  Friar 
into  heavin'  it  at  me. 

It  was  dark  when  we  reached  his  twistin'  path  along  the 
ledge,  and  I  stepped  as  cautious  as  a  glow-worm  in  a  powder- 
mill;  but  as  soon  as  we  had  our  pipes  an'  the  fire  goin',  I 
wouldn't  have  swapped  seats  with  the  fattest  king  in  the 
universe. 


CHAPTER   EIGHTEEN 

TESTING   THE   FRIAR'S   NERVE 

As  soon  as  we  had  eaten  breakfast  next  mornin',  the  Friar 
sez :  "  You,  bein'  one  o'  the  earth  animals,  have  never  had 
much  chance  to  see  a  view.  Yesterday  your  curiosity  was 
itchin'  so  'at  I  doubt  if  you  could  have  told  a  mountain  peak 
from  a  Mexican  hat;  but  now  that  you  have  temporarily 
suppressed  your  thirst  for  gossip,  had  a  good  sleep,  and  a 
better  breakfast,  drag  yourself  out  to  the  front  porch  and 
take  a  bird's-eye  view  of  the  world." 

Well,  it  was  worth  it,  it  certainly  was  worth  it !  What  he 
called  the  front  porch,  was  the  ledge  after  it  had  flipped  itself 
around  the  jutting;  and  when  a  feller  stood  on  it,  he  felt 
plenty  enough  like  a  bird  to  make  it  interestin'.  The  Big 
Horns  ran  across  the  top  o'  the  picture  about  a  hundred  an' 
forty  miles  to  the  north,  and  gettin'  all  blended  in  with 
the  clouds.  On  the  other  two  sides  were  different  mem- 
bers of  the  Shoshone  family,  most  o'  which  I  knew  by 
sight  from  any  angle;  and  down  below  was  miles  an' 
miles  of  country  spread  out  like  a  map,  but  more  highly 
colored. 

"  Friar,"  I  sez,  "  you  're  a  wealthy  man." 

This  tickled  him  a  lot,  'cause  he  was  as  proud  o'  that  view 
as  if  he  'd  painted  it.  "  I  am,  Happy,"  he  said,  "  and  I  have 
yielded  to  a  wealthy  man's  temptations.  Any  one  who  comes 
here  will  be  welcome;  but  I  own  up,  I  have  kept  this  place 
a  secret  to  have  it  all  to  myself." 


172  FRIAR    TUCK 

"  A  man  like  you  needs  some  quiet  place  to  consider  in," 
sez  I. 

"  Get  thee  behind  me,  Satan,  get  thee  behind  me,"  cried 
the  Friar.  "  I  have  been  on  far  too  friendly  terms  with  that 
excuse  for  many  a  long  month.  But  I  do  enjoy  this  place; 
so  I  am  going  to  let  you  help  me  lay  in  my  winter's  supply  of 
wood,  and  then  make  you  a  joint  member  in  full  standing." 

We  packed  wood  along  that  spider  thread  of  a  path  all 
morning ;  and  finally  I  got  so  it  did  n't  phaze  me  any  more  'n 
it  did  him.  He  sang  at  his  work  most  of  the  time,  and  I 
joined  in  with  him  whenever  I  felt  so  moved,  though  it  did 
strike  me  'at  this  was  a  funny  way  to  keep  a  place  secret ; 
and  my  idee  is  that  he  sang  to  ease  his  conscience  by  show  in' 
it  that  he  was  n't  sneakin'  about  his  treasure. 

I  remember  him  mighty  plain  as  he  walked  before  me  on 
the  ledge,  totin'  a  big  log  on  his  shoulder,  and  singin'  the 
one  'at  begins,  "  Hark,  my  soul !  It  is  the  Lord !  "  This  was 
one  he  fair  used  to  raise  himself  in,  and  it  seemed  as  if  we 
two  were  climbin'  right  up  on  the  air,  plumb  into  the  sky. 
When  he  'd  let  himself  out  this  way,  he  'd  fill  me  so  full  of 
a  holy  kind  of  devilment,  that  it  would  'a'  given  me  joy  to 
have  leaped  off  the  cliff  with  him,  and  take  chances  on  goin' 
up  or  down. 

We  had  about  filled  his  wood  place,  and  were  goin'  back 
after  the  last  load  when  just  as  he  swung  around  a  corner, 
I  saw  his  hand  go  up  as  though  warnin'  me  to  stop ;  and  I 
froze  in  my  tracks.  He  had  n't  been  singin'  this  trip,  for  a 
wonder;  but  the  next  moment  I  heard  a  sound  which  purt 
nigh  jarred  me  off.  It  was  a  low,  deep  growl  which  I  in- 
stantly recognized  as  belongin'  to  Olaf  the  Swede.  Olaf 
did  n't  talk  with  much  brogue,  though  when  he  got  excited 
he  had  his  own  fashion  for  hitchin'  words  together. 


"  I  intend  to  kill  you,"  said  Olaf,  as  calm  as  though  talkin'  about 
a  sick  sheep 

"  It  would  be  a  foolish  waste  of  time,"  replied  the  Friar,  as  if  he 
was  advisin'  a  ten-year-old  boy  not  to  fish  when  the  Blue  Bull 
was  high  and  muddy.  "  It  wouldn't  do  any  good,  and  I  shall 

not  allow  it  " 

See  page  rjj 


TESTING    THE    FRIAR'S    NERVE     173 

"  Where  is  the  girl  ?  "  he  asked  with  quiet  fierceness,  and 
for  a  space  I  was  sorry  my  parents  had  n't  been  eagles. 
There  was  n't  room  to  fight  out  on  that  ledge,  the  Friar 
did  n't  have  a  gun  on,  I  could  n't  possibly  shoot  around 
him ;  and  Olaf  was  seven  parts  demon  when  he  laid  back  his 
ears  and  started  to  kick. 

"  Where  she  cannot  be  bothered,"  sez  the  Friar,  full  as 
quiet  but  without  any  fierceness.  The'  was  a  little  bush  about 
eight  feet  up,  and  I  felt  sure  it  would  hide  me,  so  I  stuck  my 
fingers  in  the  side  o'  the  cliff  and  climbed  up;  but  the'  was 
no  way  for  me  to  get  out  to  the  bush,  and  I  had  to  drop  back 
to  the  ledge  and  stand  there  with  the  sweat  tricklin'  down 
between  my  shoulders  until  I  felt  like  yellin'. 

"  I  intend  to  kill  you,"  said  Olaf,  as  calm  as  though  talkin' 
about  a  sick  sheep. 

"  It  would  be  a  foolish  waste  of  time,"  replied  the  Friar, 
as  if  he  was  advisin'  a  ten-year-old  boy  not  to  fish  when  the 
Blue  Bull  was  high  and  muddy.  "  It  would  n't  do  any  good, 
and  I  shall  not  allow  it." 

I  got  out  my  gun,  and  made  ready  to  do  whatever  the 
angels  suggested;  but  for  some  time  the'  was  silence,  and 
durin'  this  time  I  was  keyed  up  so  tight  my  muscles  began 
to  ache.  I  knew  they  were  lookin'  into  each  other's  eyes,  and 
I  'd  have  given  a  finger  off  each  hand  to  see  how  the  Friar's 
steady  gray  eyes  handled  those  queer  blue  ones  of  Olaf. 

"  Is  she  all  right?  "  asked  Olaf,  and  all  the  threat  had  left 
his  voice,  and  it  had  just  a  glint  o'  pleadin'  in  it.  I  would  n't 
have  been  one  bit  more  surprised  to  have  seen  a  prairie-dog 
come  flyin'  up  the  gorge,  blowin'  a  cornet  with  his  nose. 

"  She  has  sprained  her  ankle ;  but  aside  from  this  has 
no  physical  ill,"  sez  the  Friar.  "  You  men  have  caused  her 
a  lot  of  worry,  and  her  soul  is  sick ;  but  her  body  is  well." 


I74  FRIAR    TUCK 

After  another  silence,  Olaf  said  slowly :  "  Yes,  yes ;  I 
can  tell  by  the  light  that  you  speak  true.  What  do  you  in- 
tend to  do  with  her?  " 

"  I  intend  to  cure  her,"  sez  the  Friar.  "  I  intend  to  help 
and  strengthen  her ;  and  I  want  you  to  help  her,  too.  Olaf, 
she  has  had  a  lot  of  trouble,  and  her  wild  gaiety  is  only  a  veil 
to  hide  the  wounds  in  her  heart.  I  want  you  to  help  her." 

"  I  know,  I  know  she  is  honest,"  said  Olaf,  and  blamed  if 
his  voice  did  n't  sound  like  a  new  boy  talkin'  to  the  boss ; 
"  but  she  made  me  love  her.  Yes,  I  do  love  her.  I  must 
marry  her.  Yes,  this  is  so." 

"  She  cannot  marry  you,  or  any  one  else,  now,"  sez  the 
Friar,  kindly.  "  This  is  why  she  has  gone  from  one  man  to 
another  —  to  disgust  them  all  and  make  them  leave  her 
alone." 

"  That  is  a  damn  devil  of  a  way,"  cried  Olaf  in  anger. 
"  Why  should  she  go  to  dances,  and  out  ridin',  and  so  on,  if 
she  wants  men  to  leave  her  alone  ?  " 

"  She  was  foolish,  she  knows  that  now ;  but  her  father 
is  not  the  right  sort  of  a  man,  and  her  home  was  not  pleas- 
ant," said  the  Friar. 

"  I  told  him  I  kill  him,  if  she  marry  any  one  but  me,"  said 
Olaf.  "  I  know  he  is  not  honest ;  but  he  is  afraid  of  me, 
and  he  will  not  bother  her  now.  I  go  to  see  him  again 
purty  soon,  and  tell  him  some  more.  Won't  you  tell  me 
where  she  is  ?  " 

"  I  want  to  be  your  friend,  Olaf,"  said  the  Friar  gently. 
"  I  tell  you  honest  that  she  cannot  marry  now.  When  I  see 
her  again,  I  shall  tell  her  of  meetin'  you,  and  what  you  have 
said.  I  have  no  desire  except  to  do  the  best  for  all  of  you, 
and  if  you  love  her  truly,  all  you  will  want  will  be  to  do  that 
which  is  best  for  her." 


TESTING    THE    FRIAR'S    NERVE     175 

The  Friar  paused,  and  I  pulled  my  ear  clear  to  the  edge  o' 
the  rock,  so  as  not  to  miss  a  word.  "  Olaf,"  he  went  on  in 
a  low,  sorrowful  voice,  "  the  love  of  a  man  for  a  woman  is 
a  wonderful  thing,  a  terrible  thing,  a  soul-testing  thing. 
Don't  let  your  love  become  common  for  men  to  talk  over. 
In  believing  what  men  have  told  you  of  me  you  have  insulted 
her,  by  admitting  that  such  a  thing  is  possible.  Go  back 
to  your  work,  kill  no  man  for  what  he  says  of  her;  but 
keep  her  pure  in  your  own  heart,  and  this  will  be  the  best 
way  to  keep  her  pure  before  the  world.  Silence  the  gossips 
by  living  above  them;  and  if  it  becomes  necessary  for  you 
to  take  your  own  love  by  the  throat,  then  do  it,  and  do  it  for 
love  of  her.  I  shall  do  all  I  can  to  make  her  worthy  of  you." 

You  should  have  heard  the  Friar's  voice  when  he  was 
sayin'  this.  I  stood  on  the  little  ledge,  just  breathin'  enough 
to  keep  my  lungs  ventilated,  and  lookin'  out  across  the 
landscape  —  mountains  on  all  sides  of  me,  and  down  below 
the  broken  ground  and  the  benches,  with  the  green  strips 
along  the  cricks  lookin'  like  lazy  snakes  in  the  hot  sunshine. 
I  could  n't  see  a  livin'  creature,  I  felt  like  the  last  man  on 
earth ;  and  that-  deep,  musical  voice  seemed  comin'  to  me 
from  somewhere  out  beyond  the  limits  of  life.  I  did  n't  have 
any  more  fear  now :  the'  was  n't  anything  in  the  shape  of  a 
human  who  could  have  done  violence  to  the  Friar  after 
hearin'  him  say  the  words  I  'd  just  heard ;  so  I  put  up  my 
gun,  and  listened  again. 

"  Can't  ya  tell  me  why  she  can't  marry  me?"  asked  Olaf, 
and  the'  was  a  tremble  in  his  voice,  almost  as  though  it 
flowed  up  from  a  sob. 

"  I  think  I  can  trust  you  to  keep  her  secret,"  sez  the  Friar. 
"  She  is  married  already.  The  man  was  a  beast  and  de- 
serted her;  but  he  is  still  alive,  and  she  cannot  marry  again." 


176  FRIAR    TUCK 

I  heard  Olaf  make  a  queer,  animal  sound  with  his  breath, 
and  then  he  said :  "  Yes,  you  speak  true  —  I  can  tell  by  the 
light;  but  she  loves  me — I  can  tell  that  also  by  the  light. 
Will  you  tell  me  when  she  can  marry  ?  " 

"  I  will,"  sez  the  Friar,  and  his  voice  was  a  pledge. 
"  There  's  my  hand  on  it." 

They  brought  their  hands  together  with  a  smack  I  could 
hear,  and  then  Olaf  turned  on  the  narrow  ledge,  with  the 
Friar  holdin'  him  on,  an'  started  off.  The  Friar  went 
along  with  him,  and  I  sneaked  after,  keepin'  a  turn  between 
us.  Olaf  mounted  his  hoss  and  rode  away  without  lookin' 
back,  which,  as  a  matter  o'  fact,  was  his  way  o'  doin'  things ; 
and  when  he  was  out  o'  sight,  I  joined  the  Friar. 

The'  was  still  a  look  of  sadness  in  the  Friar's  face;  but 
back  of  it,  and  shinin'  through  it,  was  a  quiet  satisfaction. 
He  was  full  o'  the  scene  he  had  just  gone  through;  and 
presently  he  turned  an'  said :  "  That  was  a  glorious  victory 
he  gained  over  himself,  Happy.  That  man  has  a  good  heart, 
and  who  knows  but  what  he  will  yet  be  the  means  of  bringin' 
me  an'  Tyrrel  Jones  together." 

"  What  do  you  reckon  he  meant  by  the  light  tellin'  him 
that  you  were  an  honest  man  ?  "  I  asked.  This  was  the  most 
curious  part  of  the  whole  thing  to  me. 

"  How  can  I  tell,"  he  sez.  "  Life  is  so  crowded  with 
wonders  that  I  have  quit  wonderin'  about  'em ;  but  I  always 
feel  a  thrill  when  I  see  the  stubborn  spirit  of  a  strong  man 
melt  and  run  into  the  mold  the  Master  has  prepared  for  it." 

"  I  '11  own  it  was  about  the  weirdest  thing  I  ever  saw," 
sez  I ;  "  but  I  'm  willin'  to  bet  that  whatever  else  Olaf 's  spirit 
has  molded  itself  into,  it 's  not  a  doormat  with  *  welcome ' 
wrote  on  it;  as  the  first  feller  'at  fools  with  that  girl  is 
likely  to  find  out." 


TESTING    THE     FRIAR'S     NERVE     177 

"  Never  doubt  the  power  of  the  Lord,  Happy,"  sez  he. 
"  The  hand  that  piled  up  these  hills  can  easy  shape  even  so 
stubborn  a  thing  as  the  human  will." 

"  Yes,"  I  agreed ;  "  but  it  generally  takes  just  about  the 
same  length  of  time  to  do  it,  and  a  man  don't  usually  last 
that  long." 

"Time!"  sez  he;  "what  do  you  know  about  time?  It 
may  have  taken  ages  to  form  these  hills ;  and  then  again,  it 
may  have  been  done  in  the  twinklin'  of  an  eye.  From  the 
way  the  streaks  tilt  up,  I  'm  inclined  to  think  it  was  done 
sudden." 

I  looked  at  the  lines  along  the  faces  o'  the  hills,  and  I 
was  inclined  to  believe  it,  too;  so  I  dropped  that  subject, 
and  we  sat  down  close  together  and  looked  off  down  the 
trail  where  Olaf  had  vanished. 

We  sat  in  silence  a  long  time,  me  thinkin'  o'  what  sort  of 
a  light  Olaf  had  seen  to  make  him  know  'at  the  Friar  was 
honest ;  and  of  the  way  the  Friar's  voice  had  gone  through 
me  when  he  had  talked  of  love. 

This  was  a  new  idee  to  me,  and  one  o'  the  biggest  I  had 
ever  tried  to  grapple  with.  Before  this,  my  notion  o'  love 
was,  for  a  man  to  get  the  girl  any  way  he  could;  and  it 
took  me  some  time  to  see  the  grandness  of  a  man  takin'  his 
own  love  by  the  throat  for  love  of  a  woman.  I  knew  'at  the 
Friar  had  done  this  himself;  but  it  never  was  clear  to  me 
until  I  heard  the  heartache  moanin'  through  his  voice  as  he 
laid  out  this  law  for  Olaf,  and  Olaf  bowed  his  stiff  neck 
and  accepted  it. 

I  'm  purty  sure  that  if  I  'd  'a''  known  that  day,  that  a  few 
years  later  I  would  have  to  take  my  own  love  by  the  throat 
for  the  sake  of  little  Barbie,  I  wouldn't  'a'  had  the  nerve 
to  go  on  playin'  the  game  —  but  this  is  life.  We  pick  up  a 


178  FRIAR    TUCK 

stone  here,  and  another  there,  and  build  them  into  our  wall 
until  the  flood  conies ;  and  then  if  the  wall  is  n't  high  enough 
to  turn  back  the  flood,  all  the  sting  and  bitterness  comes 
from  knowin'  that  we  haven't  made  use  of  all  the  stones 
which  came  rollin'  down  to  our  feet. 

That  night  we  had  an  uncommon  fine  fire  in  the  cave. 
I  used  to  enjoy  these  evenin'  fires  with  the  Friar,  as  much 
as  a  dog  likes  to  have  his  ears  pulled  by  the  hand  he  loves 
best.  He  would  tell  me  tales  of  all  the  ages  'at  man  has  lived 
on  the  face  of  the  whole  earth,  and  I  'd  sit  and  smoke  my 
pipe,  and  make  up  what  I  'd  'a'  done,  myself,  if  I  'd  been 
one  o'  these  big  fellers.  These  chummy  little  fire-talks 
used  to  broaden  me  out  and  make  me  feel  related  to  the 
whole  human  race,  and  it  was  then  'at  I  came  to  know  the 
Friar  best  —  though  the'  ain't  no  way  to  put  this  into  a 
story. 

Along  about  nine  o'clock  the  Friar  began  to  lecture  me 
again'  the  use  o'  violence,  pointin'  out  that  war  nor  gun- 
fightin'  nor  any  other  sort  o'  violence  had  ever  done  any 
good;  and  endin'  up  with  the  way  he  had  handled  Olaf 
as  illustratin'  how  much  better  effects  spiritual  methods 
had. 

"  Humph,"  sez  I,  "  so  you  're  tryin'  to  put  that  over  as 
an  ordinary  case,  are  ya?  Did  you  ever  before  see  such 
eyes  in  a  man's  head  as  what  Olaf  has  ?  " 

"  Now  that  you  mention  it,"  sez  he,  "  I  did  notice  they 
were  peculiar." 

"  I  ruhly  believe  you  're  right,"  sez  I,  sarcastic.  "  When 
he  said  he  saw  light  he  was  n't  speakin'  in  parables.  He  can 
see  things  'at  you  nor  I  can't  see  —  though  I  doubt  if  he 
understands  'em  himself." 

"  Still,  violence  would  have  spoiled  everything,"  persisted 


TESTING    THE    FRIAR'S     NERVE     179 

the  Friar,  who  was  as  human  as  a  raw  bronco  when  you  tried 
to  make  him  back  up. 

"  Now,  don't  forget  anything,"  sez  I.  "  It  was  n't  my  face 
'at  lit  up  when  I  said  'at  he  did  his  killin'  with  bare  hands ; 
nor  it  was  n't  me  who  gloated  over  this  as  furnishin'  an 
excuse  to  use  my  bare  hands  in  defendin'  myself." 

"  Oh,  Happy,  Happy,"  sez  he,  with  one  o'  the  bursts  'at 
made  ya  willin'  to  go  through  fire  and  water  for  him.  "  I  'm 
the  entire  human  race :  there  is  n't  a  single  sin  or  weakness 
which  has  n't  betrayed  me  at  one  time  or  another,  and  yet  the 
wicked  pride  of  me  persists  in  stickin'  up  its  head  an'  crowin' 
every  time  I  take  my  eyes  off  it." 

"  Well,  I  like  your  pride  full  as  well  as  any  other  part  o' 
ya,"  sez  I ;  "  and  before  you  wrangle  it  into  its  corral  again, 
I  want  to  say  'at  no  other  man  in  the  world  could  'a'  told 
Olaf  what  you  told  him  this  mornin',  and  lived  to  talk  it 
over  around  this  fire  to-night  —  unless,  he  had  used  the  best 
and  the  quickest  brand  o'  violence  the'  is,  in  the  meantime." 

"  Now,  that  you  have  succeeded  in  flatterin'  both  of  us, 
we  '11  go  to  sleep,"  sez  the  Friar,  and  the'  was  a  deep 
twinkle  in  his  eyes  which  allus  rejoiced  me  to  call  up. 

Next  night  soon  after  dark,  we  started  out  with  Kit 
Murray.  She  rode  like  a  man  and  could  tick  out  her  fifty  or 
sixty  a  day  right  along,  without  worryin'  her  pony.  As  soon 
as  she  was  safe  located  in  Billings,  I  turned  back  to  the  Dot, 
while  the  Friar  rounded  up  some  stray  sheep  he  had  near 
the  border,  and  as  far  as  I  can  recall  we  did  n't  meet  again 
all  that  summer. 


CHAPTER   NINETEEN 
OTHER  PEOPLE'S  BUSINESS 

OLAF'S  theories  concernin'  violence  didn't  harmonize  com- 
plete with  the  Friar's ;  but  his  method  for  discouragin'  scan- 
dal was  thorough  to  a  degree.  He  silenced  the  gossipers  all 
right,  though  so  far  as  I  heard,  most  of  'em  recovered ;  and 
the  outcome  was  'at  the  Friar  stood  higher  after  the  scan- 
dal 'n  he  had  before. 

The  Cross  brand  outfit  was  a  good  deal  like  a  pack  o' 
dogs:  they  each  sought  Ty  Jones's  favor,  and  they  were 
all  jealous  of  each  other.  Olaf  stood  high  on  account  of  his 
mysterious  insight;  so  Badger-face,  the  foreman,  backed 
up  Bud  Fisher  to  devil  Olaf  as  far  as  possible  without  givin' 
Olaf  what  Ty  would  judge  a  fit  excuse  for  unscrewin'  the 
kid's  neck;  and  from  the  talk  I  heard,  their  outfit  trotted 
along  as  smooth  an'  friendly  as  seven  he  bears  hitched  to  a 
freight  wagon ;  but  our  trails  did  n't  cross  frequent,  so  it  was 
all  hearsay. 

The  winter  before  had  been  so  fierce  'at  a  lot  o'  small 
outfits  could  n't  winter  through  their  stock.  Towards  spring, 
ol'  Cast  Steel  had  bought  in  the  Half  Moon  brand  for  a 
hundred  an'  fifty  dollars;  and  that  summer  me  an'  Spider 
Kelley  put  in  our  spare  time  huntin'  strays.  Spider  had 
come  back,  flat  broke  and  full  o'  repentance ;  so  after  I  'd 
stood  him  on  his  head  in  a  buffalo- wallow  full  o'  mud,  I 
forgave  him  free  and  frank,  and  this  summer  we  rode  to- 
gether most  o'  the  time. 


OTHER    PEOPLE'S    BUSINESS     181 

Ol'  Cast  Steel  was  as  lucky  as  a  hump-back  cat,  and  this 
summer  the  grass  was  fatter  'n  ever  I  'd  seen  it.  We 
rounded  up  over  five  hundred  head  o'  ponies,  and  over  sixty 
cows,  which  was  just  like  bein'  caught  out  in  a  gold  storm 
without  your  slicker  on ;  so  we  did  n't  sympathize  any  with 
the  old  man,  but  prospected  around  for  pleasure  whenever 
we  felt  like  it. 

One  afternoon  after  the  fall  round-up,  me  an'  Spider 
found  ourselves  in  a  mighty  rough  bit  o'  country  on  the 
north  slope  o'  the  Wind  River  range.  We  had  been  herdin' 
six  or  eight  Half  Moon  ponies  before  us  for  several  days, 
devilin'  a  parcel  of  Injuns  into  thinkin'  'at  we  was  out 
tradin' ;  but  we  had  got  weary  o'  this,  an'  were  just  foolin' 
around  and  wishin'  'at  somethin'  would  turn  up  to  amuse  us. 

"  Aw,  let 's  go  on  back  home,"  sez  Spider,  not  knowin' 
he  was  speakin'  wisdom.  "  I  'd  sooner  work  at  work  than 
work  at  huntin'  up  somethin'  to  amuse  myself  with." 

"  Well,"  I  sez,  "  we  '11  finish  out  this  afternoon,  an'  then 
if  nothin'  turns  up,  we  '11  go  back,  draw  our  pay  an'  go  into 
Boggs." 

We  saw  our  ponies  start  around  a  butte  ahead  of  us  an' 
stop  to  examine  somethin'.  We  followed  'em  around  the 
butte,  and  there  below  us  on  a  little  level, -was  a  bunch  of 
men  —  seven  of  'em.  We  drew  up  an'  gave  'em  a  look-over. 

"  What  do  you  make  out  ?  "  sez  I. 

"  Olaf  the  Swede  with  a  rope  around  his  neck,  an'  Bad- 
ger-face Flannigan  holdin'  the  other  end  o'  the  rope,"  sez 
Spider.  "  What  do  you  reckon  they  're  goin'  to  do  to 
him?" 

"  Comb  his  hair,  or  fit  a  new  sun-bonnet  on  him,"  sez  I, 
sarcastic.  "  What  else  do  they  put  a  man's  neck  in  a  noose 
for?  Let 's  go  down  an'  see  what  happens." 


182  FRIAR    TUCK 

"  A  feller  's  not  sure  of  a  welcome  at  such  times,"  sez 
Spider. 

"  No,"  I  agreed ;  "  but  I  want  to  see  Olaf 's  eyes  again, 
and  this  may  be  my  last  chance." 

"  It  may  be  your  last  chance  to  see  anything,"  sez  Spider. 
"  The  best  thing  we  can  do  is  just  to  back-track.  We  in- 
terrupted 'em  once  before ;  and  I  don't  want  'em  to  get  the 
idee  that  we  spend  all  our  time  doggin'  their  footsteps  for 
a  chance  to  spoil  their  fun.  This  ain't  any  of  our  business." 

"  We  won't  spoil  their  fun,"  sez  I.  "  If  they  get  suspi- 
cious, we  can  take  a  hand  in  it,  an'  that  will  fix  it  all  right. 
Olaf  ain't  nothin'  to  us;  and  I  don't  intend  to  risk  my  fat 
for  him,  just  'cause  he  's  got  curious  eyes." 

"  No,  I  'm  not  goin',"  sez  Spider. 

I  looked  across  at  the  group  again,  an'  there  comin'  up  the 
trail  behind  'em  was  Friar  Tuck,  ridin'  a  round  little  pinto, 
an'  leadin'  a  big  bay. 

"  Well,  you  just  stay  here,  an'  be  damned  to  you,"  sez  I  to 
Spider.  "  I  'm  goin'  on  down."  So  me  an'  Spider  rode 
down  together,  an'  arrived  at  just  the  same  time  as  the  Friar 
did. 

Badger-face  looked  first  at  us,  an'  then  at  the  Friar. 
"  What  the  hell  do  you  fellers  want  this  time  ?  "  he  sez  to  us 
in  welcome. 

"  We  just  happened  along,"  sez  I.    "  What 's  goin'  on?  " 

"  You  're  goin'  on  yourselves,  first  thing,"  sez  Badger- 
face.  "  That 's  what 's  goin'  on." 

"  I  guess  'at  you  ain't  got  neither  deeds  nor  lease  to  this 
land,"  sez  I.  "  We  have  n't  any  intention  of  interferin'  with 
you;  but  we  don't  intend  to  be  sent  where  we  don't  want 
to  go.  We  Ve  got  business  here,  huntin'  up  stray  bosses, 
an'  I  reckon  we  '11  just  stick  around." 


OTHER    PEOPLE'S    BUSINESS     183 

"  You  got  business  here,  too,  I  suppose  ? "  sez  Badger- 
face,  turnin'  to  the  Friar. 

"  Yes,"  sez  the  Friar  calmly.  "  I  came  here  entirely  by 
accident;  but  now  it  is  my  business  to  inquire  into  why 
you  have  a  rope  about  this  man's  neck.  You  recall  havin' 
put  me  into  a  similar  perdicament,  Mr.  Flannigan." 

"Yes,  an'  the  only  thing  I  regret  is,  that  I  was  inter- 
rupted," growls  Badger-face.  "  But  this  time,  the'  ain't  any 
chance  to  change  the  programme,  so  you  might  just  as 
well  poke  on  into  some  one  else's  affairs." 

"What's  the  matter,  Olaf?"  asked  the  Friar. 

Before  Olaf  could  reply,  Badger- face  gave  a  jerk  on  the 
rope.  "  You  shut  up,"  sez  he. 

"  Surely  you  will  give  the  man  a  chance  to  speak,"  cried 
the  Friar,  indignant. 

"  It  won't  do  him  no  good  to  speak,"  sez  Badger-face. 
"  He 's  committed  a  murder,  but  of  course  he  denies  it. 
Now,  get  out  o'  here,  all  three  of  ya." 

"  Listen,"  sez  the  Friar,  as  steady  an'  strong  as  the  sweep 
of  a  deep  river,  "  I  care  more  for  justice  'n  I  do  for  law. 
I  know  that  hangin'  a  man  has  never  done  any  good;  but 
it  is  usually  regarded  as  a  legal  form  of  punishment,  and 
the  prejudice  in  its  favor  is  still  too  strong  for  one  man 
to  overcome.  If  you  convince  me  that  this  man  would  be 
hung  by  a  court,  why,  I  shall  never  say  a  word  about  it; 
but  if  you  do  not  convince  me,  I  shall  stir  up  all  the  trouble 
I  can.  I  have  quite  a  number  of  friends,  Mr.  Flannigan." 

Badger- face  studied  over  this  a  moment;  and  he  saw  it 
had  sense.  "  All  right,"  sez  he,  "  we  '11  try  him  fair  an' 
square;  and  then  you  three  will  have  to  help  string  him, 
an'  I  guess  that  '11  keep  your  mouths  shut." 

"  Tell  your  story,  Olaf,"  sez  the  Friar. 


184  FRIAR    TUCK 

"  Well,"  sez  Olaf,  "  we  came  up  short  on  the  round-up, 
an'  the  old  man  raised  Cain  about  it,  an'  sent  us  out  to  hunt 
for  strays.  Badger-face  split  us  into  pairs,  an'  made  me 
an'  Bud  Fisher  work  together.  We  saw  some  cows  up 
on  a  ledge  where  we  could  n't  ride  to ;  so  we  left  the  hosses 
below,  an'  climbed  to  see  if  they  had  our  brand.  If  they 
had,  we  intended  to  ride  around  and  get  'em.  If  not  it 
would  save  half  a  day.  Bud  Fisher  had  a  rifle  along,  hopin' 
to  get  a  mountain  sheep,  an'  he  insisted  on  takin'  it  with 
him.  He  climbed  up  on  a  ledge,  an'  I  passed  up  the  rifle 
to  him.  It  was  a  long  stretch,  an'  I  passed  it  muzzle  first. 
The  hammer  caught  on  a  point  of  rock,  an'  shot  him 
through  the  stomach.  I  did  n't  bear  him  any  ill  will  any 
more  —  I  ran  down  to  the  hosses,  an'  brought  up  the  saddle- 
blankets  an'  the  slickers,  an'  made  him  as  comfortable  as 
I  could.  Then  I  hunted  up  Badger-face  an'  told  him.  When 
we  got  back  he  was  dead.  This  is  the  truth." 

"  I  think  it  is,"  sez  the  Friar. 

"  Aw  rot !  "  sez  Badger- face.  "  Come  on,  now,  an'  finish 
it.  Every  one  knows  how  they  hated  each  other ;  and  it 's 
plain  enough  that  when  the  Swede  here  got  the  chance,  he 
just  put  Bud  out  o'  the  way,  an'  Bud  was  one  o'  the  finest 
boys  the'  ever  was  in  the  world  —  always  full  o'  fun  an' 
frolic ;  while  Olaf  has  allus  been  sour  an'  gloomy." 

Most  men  are  as  sappy  as  green  grain,  an'  they  bow  which- 
ever way  the  wind  blows.  The  Cross  brand  punchers  all 
looked  extremely  sad  when  Badger-face  spoke  o'  what  a 
royal  good  feller  Bud  Fisher  had  been,  an'  when  he  stopped, 
they  all  glared  at  Olaf  as  friendly  as  wolves,  especially  a 
skinny  feller  by  the  name  of  Dixon,  who  had  the  neck  and 
disposition  of  a  snake. 

"If  you  thought  'at  Olaf  an'  Fisher  hated  each  other, 


OTHER    PEOPLE'S    BUSINESS     185 

why  did  you  make  'em  work  together?"  asked  the  Friar; 
and  the  Cross  brand  punchers  pricked  up  their  ears  an' 
looked  pointedly  at  Badger-face. 

"  I  thought  they  had  made  it  up,"  sez  Badger-face,  sur- 
prised into  takin'  the  defensive. 

"  I  have  noticed  that  you  are  likely  to  jump  hasty  at  con- 
clusions," sez  the  Friar,  speakin'  with  tantalizin'  slowness. 
He  was  a  fisher  of  men,  all  right,  the  Friar  was ;  and  just 
then  he  was  fishin'  for  those  Cross  brand  punchers.  "  Did 
Bud  speak  before  he  died,  Olaf  ?  "  he  asked  impartially. 

Olaf  hung  his  head :  "  All  he  said  was,  that  she  had  n't 
never  cared  for  him,  an'  that  he  did  n't  know  one  thing  again' 
her,"  said  Olaf. 

"  Aw,  what 's  the  use  o'  stringin'  it  out,"  sez  Badger-face. 
"  Let 's  hang  him  and  have  it  over  with." 

"  Hanging  a  f  ellow-bein'  is  a  serious  matter,  Mr.  Flanni- 
gan,"  sez  the  Friar.  "  I  am  a  party  to  this  now,  and  shall 
have  to  assume  my  share  of  the  responsibility.  I  shall  never 
consent  to  swingin'  a  man  on  such  evidence  as  this.  Let  us 
go  and  examine  the  spot.  The  hammer  may  have  left  a 
scratch,  or  something.  If  you  convince  me  that  Olaf  com- 
mitted the  murder,  I  pledge  to  assist  in  hangin'  him.  That 's 
certainly  fair,  men,"  he  sez  to  the  Cross-branders,  an'  they 
nodded  their  heads  that  it  was. 

So  we  dumb  up  to  the  spot  where  Olaf  claimed  to  have 
handed  the  gun ;  but  the'  was  n't  any  scratch  on  the  rock. 
"  Did  he  fall  from  the  ledge  when  he  was  shot  ? "  asked 
the  Friar. 

"  No,"  sez  one  o'  the  punchers.  "  He  fell  on  the  edge 
an'  hung  on." 

"  Did  the  bullet  go  clean  through  him  ?  "  asked  the  Friar. 

"  Yes,  it  went  clear  through,"  sez  the  feller. 


186  FRIAR    TUCK 

"  Point  with  your  finger  just  where  it  went  in,  an'  just 
where  it  came  out,"  sez  the  Friar. 

The  feller  pointed  with  one  finger  in  front,  an'  one  be- 
hind. The  Friar  took  a  rope  an'  had  me  hold  it  behind  the 
feller  at  just  the  level  of  that  finger  an'  then  he  made  Spider 
stretch  the  rope  so  that  it  passed  on  a  line  with  the  finger 
in  front.  The  whole  crowd  was  interested  by  this  time. 
"  Now,  then,"  sez  the  Friar,  "  where  could  Olaf  have  stood 
to  shoot  such  a  line  as  that.  He  could  not  have  shot  while 
he  was  climbin'  up,  nor  he  could  n't  have  reached  high 
enough  while  standin'  below." 

"  He  could,  too,"  sez  Badger-face,  "  for  Bud  would  have 
been  leanin'  over,  reachin'  for  the  gun." 

"  If  he  had  been  shot  while  he  was  reachin'  over,  he 
would  have  fallen  from  the  ledge,"  flashed  the  Friar. 

"  Maybe  he  did,"  snapped  Badger-face,  just  as  quick. 
"  Olaf  here  is  as  strong  as  a  horse,  an'  maybe  he  put  him 
back  on  the  ledge.  He  had  blood  on  his  hands  an'  you  can 
still  see  it  on  his  shirt.  A  man  don't  bleed  much  when  shot 
in  the  belly." 

Olaf's  queer  blue  eyes  turned  from  one  to  the  other,  but 
his  face  did  n't  change  expression  much.  He  had  about  give 
up  hope  in  the  first  place,  an'  his  face  had  the  look  of  a 
hoss,  after  he's  been  throwed-four  or  five  times  an'  just 
keels  over  on  his  side  an'  sez  to  himself :  "  Well,  they  've 
put  the  kibosh  on  me,  an'  I  don't  intend  to  make  a  fool  of 
myself  any  more  by  tryin'  to  break  loose."  The  rest  of 
us  was  more  excited  about  it  than  Olaf  was  himself. 

"Which  one  of  us  is  the  nearest  size  to  Bud  Fisher?" 
asked  the  Friar. 

They  all  agreed  that  Spider  Kelley  was ;  so  the  Friar  had 
him  coon  up  on  the  ledge.  Then  he  had  Olaf  take  the  empty 


OTHER    PEOPLE'S     BUSINESS     187 

rifle  just  as  he  had  held  it  when  he  passed  it  up;  but  made 
him  give  it  to  Badger-face  himself  to  pass  up.  Badger- 
face  passed  it  up,  Spider  Kelley  reached  for  it,  took  it,  and 
started  to  straighten  up —  The  hammer  caught  on  the 
precise  knob  that  Olaf  had  said  it  had,  an'  snapped  hard 
enough  to  set  off  a  catridge.  "  There,"  sez  the  Friar, 
sweepin'  his  hands  wide.  We  could  all  see  that  the  bullet 
would  'a'  gone  through  just  where  it  did  go. 

"  Hand  back  the  rifle,  an'  I  '11  show  ya  how  he  passed  it 
up,"  said  Badger-face.  Spider  passed  it  down,  an'  we  all 
watched  intent.  It  had  become  like  a  real  court  o'  law ;  we 
had  forgot  what  the  case  was  about,  we  was  so  interested 
in  seein'  the  scrap  the  lawyers  were  puttin'  up. 

Badger-face  cocked  the  rifle  so  slick  we  did  n't  see  him, 
called  out  to  Spider  to  catch  it,  an'  tossed  it  up  to  him.  It 
came  just  short  o'  Spider's  hand;  and  without  thinkin'  o' 
what  he  was  doin',  Spider  reached  for  the  gun.  This  brought 
him  squattin'  just  the  time  the  gun  dropped  back  into 
Badger's  hands,  and  quick  as  a  wink,  he  pulled  the  trigger  — 
and  hanged  if  that  bullet  would  n't  have  traveled  through  the 
same  hole  the  first  one  had  made. 

I  never  saw  circumstantial  evidence  give  such  a  work-out 
before.  If  we  had  all  been  fair-minded,  it  would  have  puz- 
zled us;  but  as  it  was,  we  sided  accordin'  to  our  prejudices; 
an'  the  Cross  brand  fellers  chose  Badger-face  to  Olaf,  Bad- 
ger-face bein'  foreman.  The  Friar  saw  he  was  stumped. 

"  Are  there  any  marks  up  there?  "  he  asked  of  Spider. 

"  There  's  some  blood  streaks  on  a  stone,"  sez  Spider. 

"  Did  you  notice  'em  ?  "  asked  the  Friar  of  Badger-face. 

"  Yes,"  sez  he ;  "  but  they  don't  mean  nothin'." 

"  Let 's  go  up  an'  look  at  'em,"  sez  the  Friar,  so  we  all 
dumb  up. 


i88  FRIAR    TUCK 

They  pointed  out  just  where  Bud  Fisher  had  laid  when 
they  found  him;  and  close  beside  him  was  a  smooth 
white  stone  with  blood  marks  on  it.  The  Friar  examined 
the  lay  o'  the  ledge ;  but  it  did  n't  tell  nothin',  so  finally 
he  got  down  on  his  knees  an'  studied  the  blood-stained 
stone. 

Presently  he  nodded  his  head  and  straightened  up.  "  Ex- 
amine that  stone,"  he  said,  pointin'  with  his  fingers.  We  all 
crowded  about  an'  studied  it.  The'  was  finger  an'  thumb 
prints  all  over  it;  but  if  you  looked  close,  you  could  make 
out  the  rude  image  of  a  man  pullin'  up  a  gun  which  had  ex- 
ploded on  the  edge  of  a  ledge.  It  was  a  smudgey,  shakey 
affair,  but  if  ya  looked  just  right  you  could  make  it  out.  Yet, 
even  this  did  n't  floor  Badger-face. 

"  The  Swede  there  did  that  himself,"  he  growled ;  "  and 
this  makes  him  out  sneakier  'n  we  thought  him.  Let 's  hang 
him,  and  get  rid  o'  this  foolishness." 

"  Flannigan,"  sez  the  Friar  in  cold,  hard  tones,  "  you  have 
gone  too  far  this  time.  If  you  had  hung  Olaf  at  first,  you 
might  have  done  it  from  a  proverted  sense  o'  justice;  but 
to  do  it  now  would  be  murder ;  and  your  own  men  would  n't 
help.  Do  any  of  you  men  chew  tobacco  ?  " 

If  he  had  asked  for  a  can  o'  face-paint,  we  would  n't  'a' 
been  more  surprised;  but  to  show  the  hold  the  Friar  had 
gained  over  that  crowd,  every  feller  there  but  Badger-face 
held  out  his  plug  to  him. 

"  Make  some  tobacco  juice,  Olaf,"  he  said. 

Olaf  bit  off  a  hunk  the  size  of  a  walnut  from  his  own 
piece,  an'  proceeded  to  make  juice,  as  though  his  life  de- 
pended upon  the  amount  of  it.  "  Wet  your  thumb  and 
fingers  with  it,  and  make  marks  on  the  white  stone,"  com- 
manded the  Friar. 


OTHER    PEOPLE'S     BUSINESS     189 

Olaf  did  so;  and  when  we  saw  the  difference  in  size  and 
shape,  we  savvied  the  game. 

"  Olaf  took  Bud's  hand  and  made  the  marks  with  Bud's 
own  blood,"  sez  Badger-face. 

"  Did  any  one  here  ever  try  to  handle  a  dead  man's  hand  ?  " 
asked  the  Friar;  and  that  settled  it.  We  all  nodded  our 
heads,  except  Badger-face,  an'  he  had  sense  enough  to  see 
'at  he  had  lost  the  deal,  so  he  did  n't  say  nothin'. 

"  What  I  can't  see  is,  why  he  did  n't  write,"  sez  the 
Friar. 

"  He  could  n't  write,"  chirps  up  two  punchers  at  once,  an' 
then  they  took  the  rope  off  Olaf's  neck. 

They  talked  it  over  and  decided  that  the  best  thing  to  do 
was  to  bury  Bud  Fisher  right  there  in  the  canon.  The'  was 
a  little  cave  on  the  ledge  back  o'  where  we  were  standin' 
so  two  o'  the  punchers  went  down  where  they  had  him  laid 
out  under  the  slickers,  an'  brought  him  up.  We  had  to 
hoist  him  on  ropes,  an'  the  Friar  looked  a  long  time  into 
his  face. 

It  was  just  a  lad's  face:  not  bad  nor  hardened;  just  the 
face  of  a  mischievous  boy,  weary  after  a  day's  sport.  We 
all  took  a  look,  an'  then  put  him  in  the  little  cave  an'  heaped 
clods  over  him  an'  piled  stones  on  until  the  door  was  blocked 
shut  again'  varmints. 

The  Friar  sat  down  on  a  big  rock  —  he  had  worked  as 
hard  as  any  of  us  —  and  sat  thinkin'  with  his  chin  in  his 
hand.  The  Cross  brand  fellers  muttered  among  themselves 
for  a  moment,  an'  then  one  of  'em  took  off  his  hat,  an'  sez, 
"  Don't  ya  think  ya  'd  ought  to  speak  somethin'  over  him, 
parson  ?  " 

"Do  you  want  me  to?"  asked  the  Friar.  And  they  all 
nodded  their  heads. 


190  FRIAR    TUCK 

So  the  Friar,  he  took  off  his  battered  hat  and  stood  up 
before  us  an'  spoke  a  sermon,  while  we  took  off  our  hats, 
an'  sat  around  on  stones  to  listen. 

I  'm  convinced  'at  the  Friar's  long  suit  lay  in  the  fact  'at 
he  allus  preached  at  himself.  Most  preachers  have  already 
divided  the  sheep  from  the  goats;  and  they  allus  herd  off 
contented  with  the  sheep  on  green  pastures,  and  preach  down 
at  the  goats  on  the  barren  rocks ;  but  if  the  Friar  made  any 
division  at  all,  he  classed  himself  in  with  the  goats. 

You  see,  in  agreein'  to  help  string  Olaf  should  he  be  con- 
victed, the  Friar  had  bet  his  soul  on  the  outcome;  and  this 
braced  him  up  in  that  crowd  as  nothin'  else  would ;  for  they 
knew  that  if  he  had  lost,  he'd  have  pulled  harder  on  the 
rope  'n  any  one  else. 

It 's  child's  play  to  put  out  a  funeral  talk  over  some  old 
lady  who  has  helped  the  neighbors  for  seventy  or  eighty 
years;  but  to  preach  the  need  of  repentance  to  the  livin', 
and  then  to  smooth  things  out  for  'em  after  they  've  died 
in  their  sins,  in  such  a  way  as  it  will  jolly  up  the  survivors 
and  give  'em  nerve  to  carve  cheerful  tidings  on  the  tomb- 
stone, is  enough  to  make  a  discriminatin'  man  sweat  his  hair 
out. 

The  Friar  stood  with  his  hands  clasped  in  front  of  him, 
and  his  eyes  fixed  sort  o'  dreamy-like  on  the  distance.  It  was 
a  perfect  day,  one  o'  those  days  'at  can't  happen  anywhere 
except  in  our  mountains  in  the  fall  o'  the  year,  and  my 
mind  drifted  off  to  some  lines  the  Friar  was  fond  of  re- 
hearsin',  "  Where  every  prospect  pleases,  an'  only  man  is 
vile."  Then  I  saw  a  change  come  to  the  Friar's  face,  and 
he  began  to  chant  the  one  which  begins :  "  Lord,  let  me 
know  mine  end,  and  the  number  of  my  days." 

He  chanted  slow,  and  the  words  did  n't  mean  much  to  us ; 


OTHER    PEOPLE'S     BUSINESS     191 

but  the  solemn  voice  of  him  dragged  across  our  hearts  like 
a  chain.  One  line  of  it  has  haunted  me  ever  since.  It  seems 
to  suggest  a  hundred  thoughts  which  I  can't  quite  lay  my 
hand  on,  and  every  time  I  get  sad  or  discouraged,  it  begins 
to  boom  inside  me  until  I  see  'at  my  lot  ain't  so  much  differ- 
ent from  the  rest ;  and  I  buck  up  and  get  back  in  the  game 
again :  "  For  I  am  a  stranger  with  Thee  and  a  sojourner  as 
all  my  fathers  were." 

The  Friar  didn't  preach  us  a  long  talk,  and  most  of  it 
circled  about  his  favorite  text,  that  a  man's  real  children 
were  those  who  inherited  his  character,  rather  than  those 
who  inherited  his  blood.  Once  he  raised  his  finger  and 
pointed  it  at  us  and  sez :  "  You  were  fond  o'  this  boy ;  but 
did  you  love  him  for  his  good,  or  did  you  love  him  for  your 
own  selfishness?  I  knew  him  not  save  through  the  dark 
glass  of  reputation ;  yet  after  looking  into  his  dead  features, 
to-day,  I  think  I  know  him  well.  Death  tells,  sometimes, 
what  Life  has  hid  away.  I  did  not  see  in  his  face  the  hard, 
deep  lines  of  stealthy  sin;  I  saw  the  open  face  of  a  child, 
tired  out  after  a  day  wasted  in  thoughtless  and  impulsive 
play;  but  comin'  home  at  nightfall  to  have  his  small  cares 
rubbed  away  by  a  lovin'  hand  —  and  then,  to  fall  asleep." 

O'  course,  the  Friar  landed  on  us  good  and  plenty;  but 
this  was  the  part  of  his  talk  which  stuck  to  us  after  the 
scoldin'  part  was  all  forgotten.  When  he  was  through  he 
said  a  short  prayer,  and  sang  in  a  low  tone  the  one  be- 
ginnin',  "  One  sweetly  solemn  thought."  His  eyes  were 
glistenin'  through  a  mist  when  he  finished  this,  and  he 
climbed  down  from  the  ledge,  hurried  over  to  his  pinto,  and 
rode  off  without  sayin'  another  word. 

We  all  sat  silent  for  quite  a  spell,  and  then  Spider  and 
I  got  up  and  nodded  good  day  to  'em.  The  Cross-branders 


i92  FRIAR    TUCK 

also  got  up  and  shook  'emselves,  and  started  down  with  us 
—  all  except  Olaf .  He  sat  there  on  a  stone  with  his  fingers 
run  into  his  hair,  and  his  face  hid  in  his  hands.  Olaf  had 
had  regular  religion  when  he  was  a  child ;  and  it  had  come 
back  to  him  up  there  on  the  ledge.  They  say  it 's  worse  'n 
a  relapse  o'  the  typhoid  fever  when  it  hits  ya  that  way. 
I  know  this  much,  Olaf  was  doubled  up  worse  'n  if  he  'd  had 
the  colic ;  and  from  that  time  on,  the  Ty  Jones  outfit  looked 
mighty  worldly  to  him. 

Even  Spider  Kelley  was  savin'  of  his  nonsense  until  we 
got  in  sight  of  the  Diamond  Dot  again. 


CHAPTER  TWENTY 

QUARRELING  FOR   PEACE 

WE  had  a  visitor  once,  which  was  a  business  man.  One  of 
his  chief  diversities  was  to  compare  sedantary  occupations 
with  what  he  called  the  joyous,  carefree  outdoor  life.  He 
said  'at  sedantary  came  from  sedan-chair,  and  meant  to  sit 
down  at  your  work.  I  rode  the  range  next  spring  until  I 
felt  more  sedantary  'n  an  engineer ;  and  sometimes  at  night 
it  used  to  strain  my  intellect  to  split  the  difference  between 
myself  an'  my  saddle. 

I  got  out  o'  humor  an'  depressed  and  downright  gloomy. 
Fact  is,  I  was  on  the  point  o'  rollin'  up  my  spare  socks  and 
givin'  Jabez  a  chance  to  save  my  board  money,  when  I 
heard  a  sound  'at  jerked  me  up  through  the  scum  and  gave 
me  a  glimpse  o'  the  sky  again.  I  was  ridin'  in  about  dusk, 
and  I  had  hung  back  o'  the  dust  the  other  fellers  had  kicked 
up,  so  I  could  be  alone  and  enjoy  my  misery,  when  I 
heard  this  inspirin'  noise. 

Ol'  Tank  Williams  once  tried  to  learn  to  play  on  a  split 
clarinet  a  feller  had  give  him,  and  at  first  I  thought  he  had 
found  where  we  had  buried  it,  and  had  resumed  his  musical 
studies;  but  this  outrage  came  from  an  instrument  a  feller 
has  to  be  mighty  cautious  about  buryin'.  It  was  a  human 
voice,  and  these  were  the  words  it  was  screechin' : 

"Fair  Hera  caught  her  wayward  spouse 

With  a  mortal  maid  one  dawn. 
Zeus  charmed  the  maid  into  a  cow, 
To  save  himself  a  jaw'n'. 


194  FRIAR    TUCK 

This  seemed  to  me  a  liber-tee 

To  take  with  poor  I-oh; 
But  now  I  find  that  he  was  kind, — 

'T  was  I  who  did  not  know. 
For  girls  use  slang  and  girls  chew  gum, 

And  drape  their  forms  in  silk; 
While  cows  behave  with  de-co-rum, 

And  furnish  us  with  milk." 

Well,  I  gave  a  whoop  and  threw  the  spurs  into  my  pony. 
This  was  the  seventy-ninth  verse  of  Horace's  song,  and  it 
was  his  favorite,  because  it  was  founded  on  the  Greek  reli- 
gion. I  found  him  perched  up  behind  a  rock,  and  he  kept 
on  slammin'  chunks  of  his  song  up  again'  the  welkin  until 
I  shot  some  dirt  loose  above  his  head ;  and  then  he  climbed 
down  and  reunioned  with  me. 

He  was  lookin'  fine,  except  that  some  of  his  waist  prod- 
ucts had  come  back,  and  we  talked  into  each  other  until 
the  air  got  too  thin  to  breathe.  Then  we  suppered  up  and 
began  talkin'  again.  He  had  tried  all  sorts  of  gymnastical 
games  back  East,  from  playin'  golf  to  ridin'  hossback  in  a 
park,  but  it  did  n't  have  the  right  tang.  Folks  thought  he  'd 
gone  insane  an'  lost  his  mind,  the  air  did  n't  taste  right,  he 
got  particular  about  how  his  vittles  were  cooked;  until 
finally,  his  endurance  melted  and  began  to  run  down  the 
back  of  his  neck.  This  decided  him  'at  he  'd  had  full  as 
much  East  as  was  good  for  him ;  so  he  loaded  up  a  box  with 
firearms,  tossed  some  clothin'  into  a  handbag,  and  he  said 
his  grin  had  been  gettin'  wider  all  the  way  out  until  it  had 
hooked  holes  through  the  window  lights  on  both  sides  o' 
the  train. 

We  were  all  glad  to  see  him,  an'  he  dove  into  ranch  life 
like  a  bullfrog  into  a  cream  jar;  and  he  got  toughened  to 
a  hard  saddle  in  a  mighty  short  time  for  a  feller  who  had 
got  used  to  upholstery  back  East.  He  said  'at  the  only 


QUARRELING    FOR    PEACE         195 

thing  'at  had  kept  life  in  him  had  been  to  sing  his  song 
constant;  but  he  denied  'at  this  was  his  main  excuse  -for 
fleein'  from  his  own  range. 

He  didn't  seem  to  bear  a  mite  o'  malice  for  the  joke  I 
had  put  up  on  him ;  but  still,  I  have  to  own  up  'at  he  half 
pestered  the  life  out  of  me  with  his  song.  He  had  what 
he  called  a  tenor  voice;  but  it  was  the  dolefullest  thing  I 
ever  heard,  and  the  more  he  sang,  the  more  his  notes  stuck 
to  him  until  I  coveted  to  hear  a  love-sick  hound  serenadin' 
the  moon.  When  he  saw  it  was  riskin'  his  life  to  drag  out 
any  more  o'  the  song,  he  would  pause  temptingly,  and  then 
begin  a  lecture  on  the  Greek  religion.  He  got  me  all  mussed 
up  in  religion. 

Of  course,  I  knew  'at  the  Injuns  had  a  lot  o'  sinful  reli- 
gious idees,  and  I  was  prepared  to  give  the  other  heathens 
plenty  o'  room  to  swing  in;  but  not  even  an  Injun  would 
'a'  stood  for  as  immoral  a  lot  as  the  Greek  gods  an'  goddusses 
—  especially  the  top  one,  which  Horace  called  Zeus  an'  Jove 
an'  Jupiter. 

This  one  did  n't  have  as  much  decency  as  a  male  goat,  and 
yet  he  had  unlimited  power.  He  was  allus  enticin'  some 
weak-minded  human  woman  into  a  scrape;  and  when  his 
wife,  who  was  called  Hera  and  Juno,  would  get  onto  his 
tricks,  Zeus  would  snap  his  ringers,  say  "  Flip ! "  and  charm 
the  human  woman  into  some  sort  of  an  animal.  It  was  a 
handy  scheme  for  him,  true  enough ;  and  he  did  n't  care  a 
scene  how  embarrassin'  it  was  for  the  human  women. 

He  turned  one  of  'em  into  a  bear,  and,  like  most  other 
women,  she  was  feared  o'  bears  an'  wolves  an'  snakes,  an' 
the  rest  o'  the  company  she  was  forced  to  associate  with. 
She  led  a  perfectly  rotten  existence  until  her  own  son  went 
bear  huntin',  and  was  just  on  the  point  of  jabbin'  a  spear 


196  FRIAR    TUCK 

into  her,  when  even  Zeus  himself  admitted  'at  this  would 
be  carryin'  the  joke  a  leetle  too  far;  so  he  grabs  'em  up  and 
sticks  'em  into  the  sky  as  a  group  o'  stars. 

Horace  tried  to  argue  'at  this  proved  Zeus  to  be  merciful ; 
but  as  far  as  I  can  see  it 's  as  idiotic  as  havin'  the  law  hang 
a  man  for  murder.  Supposin'  some  feller  had  murdered 
me  —  would  I  feel  any  happier  because  this  feller  who 
could  n't  put  up  with  me  in  this  world,  is  sent  over  to  pester 
me  in  the  next  ?  Course  I  would  n't ;  but  if  one  o'  my 
friends  was  murdered,  and  I  had  a  chance  to  slay  the  feller 
'at  did  it,  this  would  give  me  a  lot  o'  satisfaction  an'  joy  an' 
pleasure  —  though  I  don't  say  it  would  be  just. 

Puttin'  the  woman  an'  her  son  up  in  the  sky  did  n't  square 
things  in  Horace's  religion,  neither ;  'cause  he  said  'at  Hera 
got  jealous  of  Zeus  for  elevatin'  the  woman  and  she  went 
to  her  foster  parents  who  had  charge  of  the  ocean,  and  made 
'em  bar  this  woman  and  her  son  from  ever  goin'  into  it,  the 
same  as  the  other  stars  did,  and  he  could  prove  it  any  clear 
night.  I  told  him  that  he  might  get  away  with  such  a  tale 
as  that  back  East  among  the  indoor  people;  but  that  he 
could  n't  fool  a  day-old  child  with  it  out  our  way. 

We  started  this  discussion  the  day  after  the  fall  round- 
up was  over,  Horace  had  toughened  up  before  it  began,  and 
he  had  rode  with  me  all  through  it,  and  takin'  it  all  in  all 
he  was  more  help  than  bother,  except  that  he  shot  too  much. 
When  he  had  come  out  before,  he  had  been  so  blame  harm- 
less he  could  n't  have  shot  an  innocent  bystander ;  but  this 
trip,  he  was  blazin'  away  at  every  livin'  thing  'at  did  n't  have 
a  dollar  mark  on  it,  and  when  these  was  n't  offered,  he  'd 
waste  ammunition  on  a  mark. 

I  had  some  details  to  tend  to  after  the  round-up,  so  we 
didn't  get  a  chance  to  settle  the  bet  for  several  days.  It 


QUARRELING    FOR    PEACE         197 

was  only  a  dollar  bet;  but  when  the  time  came,  I  picked 
out  a  couple  o'  good  hosses,  bein'  minded  to  look  at  the 
stars  from  the  top  o'  Cat  Head. 

We  reached  it  about  dark,  made  some  coffee,  an'  fried 
some  bacon.  Then  we  smoked  an'  talked  until  it  was  entirely 
dark  before  we  ever  looked  up  at  the  stars.  "  Now,  bluffer," 
sez  I,  "  show  me  your  woman-bear." 

He  looked  up  at  the  sky,  an'  then  moved  on  out  o'  the  fire- 
light, an'  continued  to  look  at  the  stars  without  speakin'. 
"  Don't  seem  to  see  'em,  do  you  ?  "  I  taunted. 

He  turned  to  me  an'  spoke  in  a  hushed  voice :  "  Man," 
he  said,  "  this  is  wonderful.  Why,  the  way  those  stars  seem 
to  be  hangin'  down  from  that  velvet  dome  is  simply  awe- 
inspirin'.  I  've  looked  through  three  good  telescopes,  but 
to-night,  I  seem  to  be  viewin'  the  heavens  for  the  first  time." 

"  I  thought  you  was  n't  much  familiar  with  'em,  or  you 
would  n't  have  put  out  that  nonsense  about  a  bear-woman," 
I  sez. 

"  That,"  sez  he,  pointin'  to  the  best  known  group  o'  stars 
in  the  sky,  "  is  Ursa  Major." 

"  That,"  sez  I,  "  is  the  Big  Dipper,  an'  you  need  n't  try 
to  fool  me  by  givin'  it  one  o'  your  Greek  names." 

He  did  n't  argue  with  me ;  but  came  back  to  the  fire  an' 
fixed  some  stones  in  the  shape  of  the  Big  Dipper  stars,  then 
drew  lines  with  a  stick,  an'  sez  'at  this  made  up  the  Great 
Bear.  I  looked  him  between  the  eyes,  but  he  held  his  face, 
so  I  knew  he  was  in  earnest.  "  All  right,"  I  sez.  "  I  '11  take 
you  huntin'  some  o'  these  days,  an'  if  we  chance  to  come 
across  a  silver-tip  —  a  real  grizzly,  understand,  and  not  a 
pet  varmint  backed  up  again'  the  risin'  sun  —  you  '11  change 
your  mind  about  what  a  bear  looks  like.  If  that  was  all 
your  fool  Greeks  knew  about  wild  animals,  I  would  n't  waste 


198  FRIAR    TUCK 

my  time  to  hear  what  they  had  to  say  about  gods  an'  god- 
dusses.  I  'm  goin'  to  start  back,  an'  you  can  come  or  not, 
just  as  you  please."  This  was  the  first  time  I  had  hinted 
about  the  woodchuck;  but  I  was  disgusted  at  his  nonsense. 
He  took  it  all  right,  though,  which  proves  he  was  game. 

I  rode  some  comin'  back,  an'  he  kept  tryin'  to  square  him- 
self ;  but  I  did  n't  heed  him.  Just  before  we  reached  the 
foothills,  we  saw  a  fire,  an'  when  we  reached  it,  the  Friar 
was  just  finishin'  his  supper.  He  an'  Horace  bowed  stiffly 
to  each  other,  an'  I  was  just  put  out  enough  by  Horace's 
star-nonsense  to  feel  like  roastin'  some  one;  so  I  decided 
to  roast  'em  both. 

I  sat  on  my  hoss  an'  looked  scornful  from  one  to  the  other. 
"  Here  is  two  religious  folks,"  I  said,  impersonal  to  the  pony, 
but  loud  enough  for  all  to  hear.  "  Here  is  two  genuwine 
religious  folks !  One  of  'em  is  workin'  for  universal  brother- 
hood, an'  the  other  is  peddlin'  Greek  religion  which  he  claims 
to  be  founded  on  beauty  an'  love  an'  harmony.  They  meet 
in  the  mountains,  an'  bow  as  cordial  as  a  snow-slide.  I  think 
if  ever  I  pick  out  a  religion  for  myself,  I  '11  choose  the 
Injun's." 

I  could  n't  have  asked  for  any  two  people  to  look  more 
foolish  'n  they  did.  Neither  one  of  'em  seemed  to  have  any- 
thing to  say ;  so  I  said  to  my  pony :  "  Don't  you  worry  none, 
Muggins,  I  got  a  match  o'  my  own,  an'  if  we  want  to  set 
by  a  fire,  why,  we  can  ride  on  to  some  place  where  wood  is 
free,  an'  build  us  one." 

"  Will  you  not  dismount  an'  rest  a  while  at  my  fire  ?  "  sez 
the  Friar,  in  a  tone  meant  as  a  slap  at  me. 

"  No,  thank  you,"  sez  Horace,  "  we  must  be  goin'." 

"  Yes,  Friar,"  I  sez  hearty.  "  Me  an'  Horace  has  a  bet 
up,  an'  you  can  decide  it.  Also,  you  owe  him  somethin'  on 


QUARRELING    FOR    PEACE         199 

his  own  hook.  You  drove  him  out  o'  your  religion  an'  into 
the  Greek  religion;  an'  if  that  don't  give  him  a  direct  call 
on  you,  why  then  you  don't  realize  what  a  pest  the  Greek 
religion  is." 

They  were  so  embarassed  they  were  awkward  an'  splut- 
tery;  but  I  was  sure  'at  this  was  good  for  'em,  so  I  got 
off,  threw  the  reins  on  the  ground,  an'  warmed  my  hands  at 
the  fire;  while  Horace  apologized  for  me  not  knowin'  any 
better,  an'  the  Friar  assured  him  coldly  that  everything  was 
all  right,  an'  he  was  rejoiced  to  have  a  little  company. 

Well,  for  as  much  as  ten  minutes,  we  sat  around  enjoyin' 
what  I  once  heard  a  feller  call  frapayed  convivuality,  an' 
then  I  took  pity  on  'em  an'  loosened  things  up  by  tellin'  the 
Friar  about  the  trip  me  an'  Tank  an'  Horace  had  took  into 
the  mountains  to  pacify  our  nerves,  just  before  he  had 
stumbled  on  Horace  that  other  time.  O'  course  I  did  n't 
tell  it  all,  as  I  did  n't  want  Horace  to  know  any  more  about 
it  than  he  knew  already ;  but  I  told  what  a  seedy  little  wind- 
fall Horace  had  been  when  we  started  out,  an'  how  he  had 
come  back  crackin'  jokes  an'  singin'  the  infernalest  song  'at 
ever  was  made  up.  I  finally  got  Horace  to  sing  ten  or 
fifteen  minutes  o'  this  song,  an'  he  droned  it  out  so  unusual 
doleful  that  he  fetched  a  chuckle  out  o'  the  Friar,  an'  then 
we  were  feelin'  easy  an'  comfortable,  like  outdoor  men 
again. 

Then  I  told  the  Friar  what  our  bet  was,  expectin'  o'  course 
that  he  'd  back  me  up ;  but  what  did  he  do  but  say  'at  Horace 
was  right  as  far  as  the  stars  was  concerned.  This  tickled 
Horace  a  lot,  an'  he  began  to  crow  over  me  until  I  concluded 
to  test  the  Friar ;  so  I  sez  to  Horace  that  his  religion  havin' 
been  endorsed  by  the  Friar  himself,  I  'd  become  a  Greek 
the  first  chance  I  had. 


200  FRIAR    TUCK 

Horace  did  n't  take  any  trouble  to  hide  his  satisfaction, 
an'  he  began  to  expound  upon  the  beauty,  an'  the  art,  an'  the 
freedom  of  the  Greek  religion  at  a  great  rate. 

"  They  certainly  was  free,"  I  sez,  "  an'  easy  too,  an'  I 
don't  deny  'at  they  might  'a'  been  some  weight  in  art  an' 
beauty ;  but,  confound  'em,  they  did  n't  know  as  much  about 
bears  as  I  know  about  e-lectricity.  I  'd  just  like  to  see 
Zeus  himself  go  up  into  the  Tetons  in  the  early  spring,  to 
hunt  for  Big  Dippers.  I  '11  bet  the  first  hungry  grizzly  he  'd 
come  across  would  set  him  right  on  the  bear  question." 

This  was  a  good  opener,  an'  in  about  two  shakes,  the  Friar 
an'  Horace  had  locked  horns.  Horace  was  a  crafty,  sar- 
castic, cold-blooded  little  argufier;  while  the  Friar  was 
warm  an'  eager  an'  open  as  the  day.  It  was  one  o'  the  best 
gabbin'  matches  I  have  ever  started. 

They  dealt  mostly  in  names  I  had  never  heard  of  before, 
although  once  in  a  while  they  'd  turn  up  one  a  little  familiar 
on  account  of  Horace  havin'  told  me  some  tale  of  it.  The 
Friar  knew  as  much  about  these  things  as  Horace  did; 
but  he  called  'em  myths,  an'  said  while  they  did  n't  mean 
anything  when  took  literal,  they  had  great  historical  value 
when  regarded  merely  as  symbols.  He  said  that  I-oh  — 
the  human  maid  which  Zeus  had  turned  into  a  cow  —  was 
nothin'  but  the  moon,  an'  that  Argus  of  the  hundred  eyes 
was  simply  the  sky  full  o'  stars ;  and  that  the  old  god  which 
ate  up  his  children  was  nothin'  but  time. 

I  didn't  really  understand  much  of  what  they  said;  but 
I  did  enjoy  watchin'  'em  bandy  those  big  words  about.  We 
all  use  a  lot  o'  words  we  don't  understand;  but  as  long  as 
they  sound  well  an'  fill  out  a  gap  it  don't  much  matter. 
These  two,  though,  seemed  to  understand  all  the  words  they 
used,  an'  I  was  highly  edified. 


QUARRELING    FOR    PEACE         201 

As  they  talked,  an'  I  kept  watchin'  the  Friar's  face,  I 
learned  somethin' :  the  Friar  had  been  mighty  lonesome  with 
only  us  rough  fellers  to  talk  with,  an'  had  been  hungerin' 
for  just  such  a  confab  as  this  to  loosen  up  his  subsoil  a 
little. 

Every  now  an'  again,  I  'd  cast  an  eye  up  to  the  stars ; 
an'  while  I  did  n't  know  the  religious  names  of  'em,  I  knew 
how  to  tell  time  by  'em;  an'  I  knew  'at  those  two  would 
have  a  turn  when  they  remembered  to  look  at  their  watches. 
It  was  full  one  o'clock  when  the  conversation  came  to  its 
first  rest,  an'  then  the  Friar  recalled  what  I  had  said  when 
I  had  dismounted;  so  he  up  an'  asked  Horace  point- 
blank  what  he  had  had  to  do  with  makin'  Horace  quit  the 
church. 

Horace  was  minded  to  sidestep  this  at  first  by  intimatin' 
that  I  was  not  responsible  for  what  I  said;  but  he  finally 
came  across  and  told  the  Friar  that  he  had  give  up  that 
church  for  about  the  same  reason  that  the  Friar  himself 
had.  This  set  the  Friar  back  purty  well  on  his  haunches, 
an'  put  him  on  the  defensive.  He  had  hammered  Horace 
freely  before,  but  now  when  he  conscientiously  tried  to 
defend  the  gang  he  had  left,  and  also  excuse  himself  for 
leavin',  he  had  some  job  on  his  hands. 

I  thought  Horace  had  him  when  he  compared  the  Golden 
Age  of  Greece  an'  Plato's  Republic  with  the  Dark  Ages, 
which  was  a  stretch  of  years  when  the  Christian  religion 
about  had  its  own  way;  but  the  Friar  admitted  that  what 
he  called  economical  interests  had  put  a  smirch  on  the  church 
durin'  the  Dark  Ages,  an'  then  he  sailed  into  the  Golden 
Age  of  Greece,  showin'  that  slavery  was  the  lot  of  most  o' 
the  decent  people  durin'  that  period.  When  I  fell  asleep, 
they  were  shakin'  their  fists  friendly  at  one  another,  about 


202  FRIAR    TUCK 

Plato's  Republic,  which  I  found  out  afterwards  was  only 
a  made-up  story. 

Bern'  edicated  is  a  good  deal  like  bein'  a  good  shot  in  a 
quiet  community  —  once  in  a  long  while  it 's  mighty  com- 
fortin',  but  for  the  most  part  it 's  nothin'  but  shootin'  at  a 
target. 


CHAPTER   TWENTY-ONE 

PEACE  TO   START   A   QUARREL 

IT  was  broad  day  when  I  woke  up  —  that  is,  the  sun  was 
beginnin'  to  rise  —  an'  the  fire  had  dwindled  to  coals,  the 
breeze  had  begun  to  stir  itself,  an'  I  was  consid'able  chilly. 
I  saw  the  Friar's  nose  stickin'  out  o'  one  side  of  his  tarp  an' 
Horace's  nose  stickin'  out  the  other,  an'  I  grinned  purty 
contentedly. 

My  experience  is,  that  quarrelsome  people  usually  get 
along  well  together  an'  make  good  company;  but  sad,  seri- 
ous, silent,  polite  folks  is  about  the  wearin'est  sort  of  an 
affliction  a  body  can  have  about. 

I  once  heard  a  missionary  preach  about  what  a  noble  thing 
it  was  to  control  the  temper.  He  must  have  been  a  good 
man,  'cause  he  was  unusual  solemn  an'  wore  his  hair  long 
an'  oily ;  but  he  only  looked  at  one  side  o'  the  question.  I  've 
known  fellers  who  had  such  good  control  o'  their  tempers 
that  after  they  'd  once  been  put  out  o'  humor  over  some  little 
thing,  they  could  keep  from  bein'  good  tempered  again  for 
a  year.  And  then  again,  when  a  feller  keeps  too  tight  a 
holt  on  his  temper,  his  hands  get  numb,  an'  his  temper  's 
liable  to  shy  at  some  silly  thing  an'  get  clear  away  from 
him. 

What  I  liked  about  both  the  Friar  an'  Horace  was,  'at  they 
had  n't  froze  up  all  their  f eelin's.  It  was  possible  to  get  'em 
stirred  up  about  things,  an'  this  allus  struck  me  as  bein' 
human;  so  I  was  glad  to  see  Horace  warmin'  his  feet  in 


204  FRIAR    TUCK 

the  small  o'  the  Friar's  back,  an'  I  whistled  a  jig  under  my 
breath  while  gettin'  breakfast. 

They  grumbled  consid'able  when  I  rousted  'em  out;  but 
by  the  time  they  had  soused  their  heads  in  the  crick,  they 
were  in  good  humor  again ;  an'  hungry !  Say !  Ever  since 
I  'd  give  him  his  treatment,  Horace  had  had  an  appetite  like 
a  stray  dog ;  while  the  Friar  allus  was  a  full  hand  at  clearin' 
tables,  except  on  his  one  off-day  a  week.  I  gave  the  Friar 
a  wink  just  as  Horace  splashed  into  his  third  cup  o'  coffee, 
an'  sez :  "  Friar,  you  should  have  seen  this  creature  when 
he  first  came  out  here.  His  muscles  had  all  turned  to  fat, 
so  that  he  could  hardly  wobble  from  one  place  to  another, 
an'  he  was  so  soft  that  when  he  'd  lie  down  at  night,  his 
nerves  would  stick  into  him  an'  keep  him  awake.  Now,  if 
it  was  n't  for  that  f ringy  thing  he  wears  on  his  face,  he  'd 
look  almost  exactly  like  a  small-sized  human." 

The  only  come-back  Horace  made  was  to  start  to  sing 
with  his  mouth  full  o'  cornbread  an'  bacon.  This  was 
more  'n  any  one  could  stand,  so  I  tipped  him  over  backward, 
an'  asked  the  Friar  which  way  he  was  headin'. 

The  Friar's  face  went  grave  at  once;  and  then  he  began 
to  post  me  up  on  Olaf  the  Swede.  I  had  heard  some  rumors 
that  summer,  but  had  n't  paid  much  heed  to  'em.  It 
now  turned  out  that  the  Friar  and  Olaf  had  struck  up 
friendly  affiliations;  so  he  was  able  to  give  me  all  the 
details. 

Badger-face  had  a  disposition  like  a  bilious  wolf,  and 
when  he  was  denied  the  satisfaction  o'  jerkin'  Olaf  out  o'  this 
world,  he  had  turned  to  with  earnest  patience  to  make  Olaf 
regret  it  as  much  as  he  did.  Olaf  could  stand  more  'n  the 
youngest  son  in  a  large  family  o'  mules,  but  he  had  his 
limitations,  the  same  as  the  rest  of  us ;  so  when  he  saw  that 


PEACE  TO  START  A  QUARREL  205 

Badger  was  engaged  in  makin'  the  earth  no  fit  place  for  him 
to  habitate,  he  began  to  feel  resentful. 

When  a  boss  is  mean,  he  is  still  the  boss  and  he  don't  irri- 
tate beyond  endurance;  but  a  foreman  is  nothin'  but  a 
fellow  worker,  after  all;  so  when  he  gets  mean,  he 's  small 
and  spidery  in  his  meanness;  and  I  reckon  'at  Olaf  was 
justified  in  try  in'  to  un  joint  Badger- face,  thorough  and 
complete. 

O'  course,  Ty  had  to  back  up  Badger  for  the  sake  o'  dis- 
cipline; but  he  didn't  wreak  any  vengeance  on  Olaf  when 
he  tendered  in  his  resignation,  which  proves  'at  Ty  still  was 
full  o'  respect  for  Olaf.  Badger  was  groanin'  on  his  back 
when  Olaf  left;  but  he  called  out  that  he  intended  to  get 
square,  if  he  had  to  wear  all  the  curves  off  his  own  body 
to  do  it. 

Olaf  had  the  gift  o'  sensin'  men,  all  right ;  but  his  judg- 
ment was  n't  such  as  to  make  a  yearlin'  bull  willin'  to  swap, 
and  what  he  did  was  to  take  the  Pearl  Crick  Spread  as  a 
homestead.  It  was  only  about  fifteen  miles  from  the  Cross 
brand  ranch  house,  and  it  was  one  o'  the  choicest  bits  in  the 
whole  country.  This  act  was  on  a  par  with  an  infant  baby 
sneakin'  into  a  wolf  den  to  steal  meat.  The  Friar  put  the 
finishin'  touch  by  sayin'  that  Olaf  had  bought  the  old,  run- 
down T  brand,  and  then  I  lost  patience. 

"  Does  Olaf  sleep  with  a  lightnin'  rod  connected  to  the 
back  of  his  neck?  "  I  asked  as  sober  as  a  boil. 

"  What  do  ya  mean  ?  "  asked  the  Friar,  who  was  innocent 
about  some  things. 

"  Well,  that  looks  like  another  good  way  to  attract  trouble/' 
sez  I. 

"  Olaf  does  not  want  any  trouble,"  sez  the  Friar  with  dig- 
nity. "  All  he  wants  is  an  opportunity  to  work  his  claim  in 


206  FRIAR    TUCK 

peace.  He  has  more  self-control  'n  airy  other  man  I  've  ever 
known." 

"  It 's  a  handy  thing  to  have,  too,"  sez  I,  "  providin'  a  fel- 
ler knows  how  to  use  it.  Why,  ya  could  change  a  T  brand 
to  a  Cross  quicker  'n  a  one-armed  Mexican  could  roll  a 
cigarette.  Ty  Jones  '11  get  more  o'  that  brand  'n  ever  Olaf 
will.  How  is  Kit  Murray  gettin'  along  ?  " 

"  She  is  a  fine  girl,"  sez  the  Friar,  his  face  lightin'.  "  She 
has  cut  out  all  her  wild  ways,  and  Mother  Shipley  sez  her 
daughter  thinks  as  much  of  her  as  if  they  was  sisters.  I  got 
word  last  week  'at  her  husband  died  in  a  hospital;  and  I 
hope  she  '11  marry  Olaf  some  day." 

"  Well,  I  '11  bet  the  liquor  again'  the  bottle  'at  she  never 
does  it,"  sez  I.  "  In  the  first  place,  she  's  got  too  much  style, 
and  in  the  second,  she  's  got  too  much  sense.  Ty  's  already 
got  more  stuff  'n  he  can  take  care  of  through  a  dry  summer, 
and  the  next  one  we  have,  he  is  goin'  to  need  Pearl  Crick 
Spread.  A  grizzly  traffics  along  without  bein'  disturbed, 
until  he  gets  the  idee  that  he  owns  consid'able  property, 
and  has  legal  rights.  Then  one  day  the'  don't  seem  to  be 
anything  else  demandin'  attention,  so  out  go  a  parcel  o' 
men  and  harvest  the  grizzly.  That 's  the  way  it  '11  be  with 
Olaf." 

"  I  advised  him  to  move,"  sez  the  Friar;  " but  he  's  set  in 
his  ways." 

"  Self-control,"  sez  I.  "  I  was  workin'  in  a  mine  once 
with  a  mule  and  a  Hungarian ;  and  both  of  'em  had  an  un- 
usual stock  o'  self-control.  One  day  right  after  a  fuse  had 
been  lit,  the  mule  decided  to  rest  near  the  spot ;  an'  the  Hun 
decided  to  make  the  mule  proceed.  We  argued  with  'em 
as  long  as  it  was  safe ;  but  the  mule  had  his  self-control  an' 
all  four  feet  set,  and  the  Hun  was  usin'  his  self-control  an' 


PEACE  TO  START  A  QUARREL  207 

a  shovel.  All  we  ever  found  was  the  mule's  right  hind  leg 
stickin'  through  the  Hungarian's  hat,  and  we  buried  these 
jus'  as  they  was." 

The  Friar  sighed,  pursed  up  his  lips,  and  sez :  "  I  wish  I 
could  help  him." 

"  Help  him  all  you  can,  Friar,"  sez  I ;  "  but  after  the  fuse 
is  burnin',  you  pull  yourself  out  to  safety.  Ty  Jones  could 
easy  spare  you  without  goin'  into  mournin'." 

The  Friar  rode  on  about  his  business,  an'  me  an'  Horace 
went  back  to  the  ranch,  him  pumpin'  me  constant  for  further 
particulars  about  Olaf  an'  Kit.  "Horace,"  sez  I  finally, 
"  did  you  ever  see  these  folks  ?  " 

"  I  never  did,"  sez  he. 

"  Then,"  sez  I,  "  what  you  got  again'  'em  'at  you  want  'em 
to  marry  ?  " 

"  Marriage,"  sez  he  with  the  recklessness  common  to  old 
bachelors,  "  is  the  proper  condition  under  which  humans 
should  live  —  and  besides,  I  don't  like  what  you  tell  about 
Ty  Jones." 

From  that  on,  Horace  began  to  talk  hunt;  and  when 
Horace  talked  anything,  he  was  as  hard  to  forget  as  a  split 
lip.  He  had  brought  out  some  rifles  which  the  clerk  had  told 
him  would  kill  grizzlies  on  sight,  and  Horace  had  an  awful 
appetite  to  wipe  out  the  memory  o'  that  woodchuck. 

I  admit  that  no  one  has  any  right  to  be  surprised  at  any- 
thing some  one  else  wants  to  do ;  but  I  never  did  get  quite 
hardened  to  Horace  Walpole  Bradford.  When  ya  looked  at 
him,  ya  knew  he  was  a  middle-aged  man  with  side-burn 
whiskers ;  but  when  ya  listened  to  his  talk,  he  sounded  like 
a  fourteen-year-old  boy  who  had  run  away  to  slaughter 
Injuns  in  wholesale  quantities. 

All  of  his  projecs  were  boyish;    he  purt'  nigh  had  his 


2o8  FRIAR    TUCK 

backbone  bucked  up  through  the  peak  of  his  head  before  he  'd 
give  in  that  ridin'  mean  ones  was  a  trade  to  itself;  and  the 
same  with  ropin',  and  several  other  things.  It  ground  him 
bitter  because  his  body  had  n't  slipped  back  as  young  as  his 
mind,  an'  he  worked  at  it  constant,  tryin'  to  make  it  so. 

He  wore  black  angora  chaps,  two  guns,  silver  spurs, 
rattlesnake  hat-band,  Injun- work  gauntlets,  silk  neckerchief 
through  a  silver  slip,  leather  wristlets,  an'  as  tough  an  ex- 
pression as  he  could  work  up ;  but  the  one  thing  of  his  old 
life  he  refused  to  discard  was  his  side-burns.  Sometimes 
he  'd  go  without  shavin'  for  two  weeks,  an'  we  'd  all  think 
he  was  raisin'  a  beard ;  but  one  day  he  'd  catch  sight  of  him- 
self in  a  lookin'-glass,  an'  then  he  'd  grub  out  the  new  growth 
an'  leave  the  hedge  to  blossom  in  all  its  glory. 

We  were  long  handed  for  the  winter  as  usual,  an'  the' 
was  n't  any  reason  why  we  could  n't  take  a  hunt ;  so  Tank 
an'  Spider  egged  him  on,  an'  I  was  n't  much  set  again'  it 
myself.  Horace  agreed  to  pay  us  our  wages  while  we  were 
away,  an'  offered  Jabez  pay  for  the  hosses ;  but  o'  course 
he  would  n't  listen  to  it ;  and  for  a  few  days  he  even  talked 
some  o'  goin'  with  us,  though  he  did  n't  ever  care  much  for 
huntin'. 

Finally  we  started  out  with  a  big  pack  train  an'  enough 
ammunition  for  an  army.  Besides  me  an'  Horace,  the'  was 
Tank,  Spider  Kelley,  Tillte  Dutch,  an'  Mexican  Slim.  Slim 
was  to  do  the  cookin',  an'  the  rest  of  us  were  to  divvy  up 
on  the  other  chores  all  alike,  Horace  not  to  be  treated  much 
different  simply  because  he  was  payin'  us  our  wages ;  but 
he  was  to  have  the  decidin'  vote  on  where  we  should  go  an' 
how  long  we  'd  stay.  It  was  fine  weather  most  o'  the  time, 
though  now  an'  again  we  'd  get  snowed  up  for  a  day  or  so 
in  the  high  parts. 


PEACE  TO  START  A  QUARREL  209 

I  had  allus  felt  on  friendly  terms  with  the  wild  creatures ; 
an'  I  had  told  him  before  we  started  that  I  wouldn't  have 
no  part  in  usin'  hosses  for  bear-bait,  nor  shootin'  bears  in 
traps,  nor  killin'  a  lot  o'  stuff  we  had  no  use  for ;  but  Horace 
turned  out  to  be  as  decent  a  hunter  as  I  ever  met  up  with, 
an'  after  the  second  day  out  he  did  as  little  silly  shootin'  as 
any  of  us.  He  was  n't  downright  blood-thirsty,  like  a  lot  of 
'em  who  get  their  first  taste  too  late  in  life.  He  cared  more  for 
the  fun  o'  campin'  out  an'  stalkin'  game  than  he  did  for  killin'. 
We  only  got  one  silver-tip,  most  of  'em  havin'  holed  up ;  but 
we  found  all  the  other  game  we  wanted.  Horace  killed  the 
grizzly,  which  was  a  monster  big  one,  and  this  wiped  the 
woodchuck  off  his  record,  and  inflated  his  self-respect  until 
the  safety  valve  on  his  conceit  boiler  was  fizzin'  half  the  time. 

We  made  a  permanent  camp  not  far  from  Olaf 's  shack,  an' 
it  did  n't  take  me  long  to  see  'at  the  foxy  Horace  was  more 
interested  in  Olaf  an'  his  war  with  Ty  Jones  than  he  was 
in  huntin'.  As  soon  as  we  had  our  camp  arranged,  he  got 
me  to  take  him  over  to  Pearl  Crick  Spread  to  call  on  Olaf. 
I  told  him  that  Olaf  was  n't  what  you  'd  call  sociable ;  but 
he  insisted,  so  we  went. 

We  found  Olaf  in  an  infernal  temper,  an'  some  tempted 
to  take  it  out  on  the  first  human  he  met ;  but  this  did  n't 
phaze  Horace.  He  thought  he  could  start  Olaf  by  tellin' 
him  that  Kit  Murray  was  a  widow;  but  the  Friar  had 
already  told  him  and  Olaf  would  n't  thaw  worth  a  cent.  He 
kept  on  askin'  questions,  even  when  they  was  n't  answered, 
until  Olaf  got  hungry  an'  asked  us  in  to  eat  dinner  with 
him.  After  we  had  eaten,  we  sat  around  the  fire  smokin',  an' 
Horace  looked  as  contented  as  a  cat.  He  kept  at  his  ques- 
tionin'  until  he  got  Olaf  to  talkin'  freer  'n  I  had  supposed 
he  could  talk. 


210  FRIAR    TUCK 

Horace  tried  him  out  on  all  sorts  o'  things,  an'  when  Olaf 
snubbed  him,  why,  he  just  overlooked  it  an'  tried  somethin' 
else.  Finally  he  tried  his  hand  at  religion,  an'  this  was  what 
loosened  Olaf  up.  Now  Olaf  was  actually  religious,  and 
called  himself  a  Christian,  but  the'  was  a  heap  o'  difference 
between  his  brand  o'  it  an'  the  Friar's. 

Olaf's  God  took  more  solid  satisfaction  in  makin'  hell 
utterly  infernal  than  a  civilized  community  takes  in  a  pene- 
tentiary;  an'  Olaf  was  purty  certain  as  to  who  was  goin' 
there.  When  he  got  to  talkin'  religion  in  earnest,  his 
face  grew  hard  an'  his  eyes  bright,  an'  he  gloated  over 
the  souls  in  torment  till  he  showed  his  teeth  in  a  grin. 
The'  was  n't  any  doubt  in  his  mind  that  Ty  Jones  was 
goin'  to  be  among  those  present,  an'  this  led  him  into  tellin' 
what  had  put  him  so  far  out  o'  humor  before  we'd  come 
along. 

He  had  found  another  one  of  his  cows  shot  an'  only  a 
couple  o'  steaks  cut  off.  He  fair  frothed  at  the  mouth  when 
he  told  us  this,  an'  he  did  n't  make  any  bones  of  givin'  Ty 
the  credit  for  it.  He  cut  loose  an'  told  us  a  string  o'  things 
'at  he  knew  about  Ty,  an'  ya  could  n't  blame  him  for  f eelin' 
sore.  He  talked  along  in  a  rush  after  he  got  started,  tellin' 
o'  the  way  'at  Ty  changed  brands  an'  butchered  other 
fellers'  stock  an'  wasn't  above  takin'  human  life  when  it 
stood  in  his  way.  "  He  made  me  as  big  a  devil  as  he  is," 
sez  Olaf ;  "  an'  now  he  knows  'at  I  can't  get  any  backin' ; 
so  he  is  just  persecutin'  me;  but  some  o'  these  days,  I'll 
get  a  chance  at  him." 

Horace  had  dropped  into  a  silence  while  Olaf  was  talkin' ; 
but  now  he  raised  a  finger  at  me,  an'  said :  "  I  '11  tell  you 
what  we  '11  do :  instead  of  huntin'  ordinary  wild  beasts, 
we  '11  just  keep  watch  on  Olaf's  stuff,  an'  when  any  one 


PEACE  TO  START  A  QUARREL  211 

bothers  it,  why,  we  '11  take  'em  into  some  town  with  a 
jail." 

Olaf  shook  his  head,  an'  I  told  Horace  that  the'  wasn't 
any  law  for  big  cattle  men ;  but  Horace  was  all  worked  up, 
an'  after  we'd  left  Olaf  an'  started  for  camp,  he  didn't 
talk  of  anything  else.  He  put  it  before  the  boys ;  but  they 
were  all  again'  it,  an'  told  him  a  lot  o'  tales  about  fellers  who 
had  tried  to  buck  the  big  cattle  men.  Horace  called  us 
all  cowards ;  but  we  only  laughed  at  his  ignorance  an'  let 
him  carry  on  as  far  as  he  liked.  He  sat  up  way  into  the 
night  broodin'  over  it,  an'  from  that  on  he  did  a  lot  o' 
scoutin'  on  his  own  hook.  We  used  to  keep  an  eye  on  him, 
though ;  so  after  all  he  had  his  own  way  about  it,  an'  Olaf 's 
stuff  was  watched  purty  close. 

The  boys  was  proud  of  Horace,  just  as  they  'd  have  been 
proud  of  a  fightin'  terrier;  but  they  was  worried  about 
him,  too,  in  just  about  the  same  way. 

"  I  tell  you,  that  little  runt  would  shoot  to  kill  if  he  got 
a  chance,"  sez  Tank  Williams,  one  night  while  Horace  was 
away. 

"  Aw  ya  can't  tell,"  sez  Spider.  "  He  thinks  he  would ; 
but  he 's  never  been  up  against  it  yet,  an'  ya  can't  tell." 

"  Well,  what  if  he  did  shoot,"  sez  Slim,  "  we  would  n't 
have  to  mix  in,  would  we  ?  " 

"  You  know  blame  well  we  'd  mix  in,"  sez  Tank,  "  an' 
you  can't  tell  where  it  would  end.  If  Horace  had  'a'  come 
out  here  when  he  was  a  kid,  he  'd  'a'  turned  out  one  o'  the 
bad  men  for  true.  It 's  in  his  blood.  Look  at  him !  when 
he  came  here  first,  he  did  n't  have  no  more  get-up  'n  a  sof  y 
piller ;  but  look  what  he  's  gone  through  since.  I  saw  him, 
myself,  march  along  without  food  for  four  days,  an'  when 
we  came  up  with  that  cow,  he  was  willin'  to  help  kill  her 


212  FRIAR    TUCK 

with  a  rock  or  strangle  her  to  death,  an'  he  did  n't  make  no 
more  bones  o'  calf-milkin'  her  than  a  coyote  would.  He 
started  out  in  life  with  more  devilment  in  him  'n  any  of  us, 
an'  what  he  's  achin'  for  now  is  a  mix-in  with  the  Cross 
brand  outfit.  That 's  my  guess." 

"An'  that's  my  guess,"  I  chimed  in;  but  just  then  we 
heard  two  shots  close  together,  then  a  pause  an'  three  more 
shots.  We  jammed  on  our  hats  an'  guns  an'  rushed  outside. 
It  was  a  moonlight  night,  an'  we  hustled  in  the  direction 
o'  the  shots.  Before  long  we  made  out  Horace  an'  Tillte 
Dutch  comin'  towards  us,  an'  Horace  was  struttin'  like 
Cupid  the  bulldog  used  to  walk,  after  he  'd  flung  a  steer. 
It  was  the  first  time  I  'd  ever  noticed  this,  but  I  noticed  it 
plain,  out  there  in  the  moonlight. 

"What's  up?"  I  asked. 

"  I  reckon  'at  somebody  knows  by  now  that  Olaf's  stuff 
is  havin'  a  little  interest  took  in  it,"  sez  Horace. 

We  came  back  into  the  old  log  cabin  where  we  was 
campin',  an'  Dutch  told  about  how  Horace  had  got  him  to 
walk  with  him,  an'  had  sat  down  on  a  rock  where  they  could 
see  Olaf's  little  bunch  o'  cattle  grazin'.  He  said  'at  Horace 
sat  with  his  rifle  across  his  lap  and  kept  watch  like  an  Injun 
scout. 

After  a  time  they  saw  two  men  creep  out  of  a  ravine  not 
far  from  where  they  was  sittin'  an'  sneak  down  on  the 
bunch  o'  cows.  One  of  'em  had  shot  a  cow,  an'  Horace 
had  shot  him,  bringin'  him  down,  but  not  killin'  him.  The 
two  had  run  for  the  ravine,  an'  Horace  had  tried  to  cut 
'em  off,  an'  he  had  gone  along  'cause  Horace  had;  but  the 
two  had  got  to  their  hosses  first.  Each  o'  the  two  had  taken 
one  shot,  an'  Horace  had  shot  back  but  none  o'  these  last 
shots  had  hit  anything,  an'  the  two  had  got  away. 


PEACE  TO  START  A  QUARREL  213 

"  I  '11  bet  they  have  n't  got  so  far  away  but  what  we  '11 
hear  from  'em  again,"  sez  Tank. 

"  The  thing  for  us  to  do  is  to  start  back  to  the  Diamond 
Dot,"  sez  I. 

"  We  shall  stay  here,  an'  see  what  happens,"  sez  Horace, 
lightin'  his  pipe.  His  eyes  were  dancin'  an'  he  was  all 
puffed  up.  I  did  n't  say  any  more.  I  just  looked  at  him. 
He  was  the  same  old  Horace,  side-burns  an'  all ;  but  still 
the'  was  enough  difference  for  me  to  begin  to  regret  havin' 
give  him  the  treatment.  I  had  cured  his  nerve  so  complete 
it  seemed  likely  to  boss  the  whole  crowd  of  us  into  trouble. 


CHAPTER   TWENTY-TWO 

A  PROGRESSIVE   HUNT 

THE  Friar  sez  it 's  all  rot  about  men  bein'  better  for  havin' 
sowed  their  wild  oats  when  young.  He  sez  'at  it 's  utter 
foolishness  to  sow  any  crop  ya  don't  want  to  harvest;  but 
I  dunno.  I  don't  mind  havin'  a  colt  try  to  turn  himself 
inside  out  with  me  on  its  back;  but  I'm  some  prejudiced 
again'  an  old  hoss  which  is  likely  to  pitch  when  I  've  got 
other  business  to  attend  to.  When  a  young  hoss  is  mean, 
why,  ya  can  reason  it  out  of  him;  but  when  an  old  hoss 
turns  bad,  you  might  just  as  well  put  the  outlaw  label  on 
him  an'  turn  him  adrift. 

We  could  n't  do  a  thing  with  Horace  after  he  'd  taken  his 
shot  at  the  feller  who  potted  one  of  Olaf  s  cows.  Ol'  Tank 
Williams  was  huge  in  size  an'  had  a  ponderous  deep  voice 
which  rumbled  around  in  him  like  a  bulldog  croakin'  in 
a  barrel ;  an'  he  decided  that  it  was  his  duty  to  be  firm  with 
Horace,  seein'  the  way  'at  he  had  bluffed  him  when  we  went 
on  that  trip  for  the  nerves ;  so  the  follerin'  mornin'  he  put 
a  scowl  on  his  face,  grabbed  Horace  by  the  chest  of  his 
shirt,  lifted  him  so  'at  nothin'  but  the  tips  of  his  toes  touched, 
an'  sez :  "  Look  here,  you  little  whippersnapper,  we  agreed 
to  go  where  you  said  an'  stay  as  long  as  you  said ;  but  we 
meant  on  a  game-huntin'  trip.  You  have  n't  any  idee  what 
you  're  up  again'  out  here,  an'  you  got  to  give  in  an'  come 
back  with  us." 

Tank's  free  eye  rolled  about  in  his  head,  runnin'  wilder  'n 


A     PROGRESSIVE    HUNT  215 

I  'd  ever  seen  it ;  but  Horace  was  n't  as  much  phazed  as  if 
a  fly  had  bit  him.  He  scowled  down  his  eyebrows,  an'  piped 
out  in  his  squeaky  tenor :  "  Take  your  hand  off  me,  Tank  — 
and  take  it  off  now." 

"  I  've  a  notion  to  raise  it  up  an'  squash  ya,"  sez  Tank. 

"  Yes,"  sez  Horace,  without  blinkin'  a  winker,  "  you  've 
got  notions  all  right;  but  they  lie  so  far  to  the  interior  of 
ya  that  they  generally  weaken  before  they  find  their  way 
out.  Take  your  hand  off  me." 

Well,  Tank  was  beat.  He  gave  Horace  a  shove,  but 
Horace  was  light  on  his  feet,  an'  he  never  lost  his  balance. 
He  just  danced  backward  until  he  had  his  brakes  set,  an' 
then  he  fetched  up  in  front  o'  the  fire,  put  his  fists  on  his 
hips,  an'  stared  up  at  Tank  haughty. 

"  Ignorance,"  sez  he,  "  is  the  trouble  with  most  people. 
The  ignorant  allus  judge  by  appearances.  If  body-size  was 
what  really  counted,  why,  we  'd  have  an  elephant  for  an 
emperor.  Instead  of  which  we  use  'em  to  push  logs  around. 
Goliath  did  a  lot  o'  talkin'  about  squashin'  David,  but  as  soon 
as  David  got  around  to  it,  he  fixed  Goliath  all  ready  for  the 
coroner.  Napoleon  was  of  small  size,  an'  fat,  an'  nervous, 
but  he  did  n't  count  it  a  fair  day's  work  unless  he  had  pre- 
sented one  of  his  relatives  with  a  full-sized  kingdom. 
Where  are  the  buffalos  —  where  are  they  —  the  big  clumsy 
brutes !  They  're  shut  up  out  o'  harm's  way,  that 's  where 
they  are;  but  where  are  the  mosquitoes?  Why  the  mos- 
quitoes are  takin'  life  easy  at  all  the  fashionable  summer 
resorts.  If  you  feel  like  freightin'  your  big,  fat  carcass 
back  to  where  it  don't  run  any  risk  o'  bein'  bumped  into, 
why  go  ahead ;  but  I  'm  goin'  to  stick  around  here  an'  see 
what  happens." 

Well,  there  we  were:    we  didn't  none  of  us  have  the 


216  FRIAR    TUCK 

courage  to  own  up  'at  we  were  afraid  of  anything  'at  Horace 
was  n't  afraid  of ;  so  we  decided  to  stick  with  him,  but 
that  he  had  to  take  the  blame.  It  was  Tillte  Dutch  who  said 
this,  an'  Horace  looked  at  him  an'  grinned.  "  Take  the 
blame  ?  "  sez  he.  "  Why  you  big  chump,  it 's  the  small-sized 
men  who  allus  take  the  blame.  The  big  boobs  rush  about, 
makin'  a  lot  o'  noise ;  but  they  only  do  what  the  small-sized 
men  tell  'em  to.  I  '11  take  the  blame  all  right,  an'  if  you 
back  me  up,  you  '11  be  right  pleased  to  have  a  share  in  the 
kind  o'  blame  the's  goin'  to  be.  This  Ty  Jones  outfit  is 
nothin'  but  a  set  o'  cowardly  bullies  who  sneak  around  in 
the  dark  doin'  underhanded  work;  but  I  intend  to  let  the 
daylight  in." 

"  I  '11  bet  the  daylight  will  be  let  in,  somewhere,"  sez  I ; 
"  but  I  'm  just  fool  enough  to  stick  with  ya." 

Tank  was  still  smartin'  from  the  way  it  had  been  handed 
to  him.  "  Say,"  sez  he,  "  p'raps  you  don't  know  it ;  but 
that  David  you  was  cacklin'  about  a  while  ago  was  n't  nothin' 
but  a  sheep-herder." 

"  That  don't  change  no  brands,"  sez  Horace,  who  did  n't 
have  any  more  use  for  a  sheep-herder  'n  we  did.  "  He  was 
a  small-sized  man,  an'  he  just  drove  sheep  a  while  to  help 
his  father  out.  Sheep-herdin'  wasn't  his  regular  trade. 
Bossin'  men  an'  fightin'  an'  bein'  a  king  was  his  natural 
line  o'  business.  It  allus  seems  to  me  'at  big,  overgrown 
men  ought  to  be  sheep-herders,  so  they  could  drive  about 
in  house-wagons,  an'  not  wear  down  so  many  good  hosses." 

Ol'  Tank  slammed  about,  makin'  a  lot  o'  noise;  but  he 
had  lost  this  deal,  an'  it  was  plain  to  see. 

"  I  'm  goin'  to  ride  over  to  Olaf 's,  an'  tell  him  about  what 
happened  last  night,  an'  say  'at  we  '11  keep  an  eye  on  his 
stuff  if  so  be  he  wants  to  take  a  little  trip  to  Billings,"  said 


A    PROGRESSIVE    HUNT  217 

Horace;  and  when  he  started  I  went  along  with  him.  At 
first  Olaf  was  so  white-hot  about  havin'  another  cow  killed 
that  he  couldn't  think;  but  finally  he  looked  at  Horace  a 
long  time,  an'  said :  "  You  have  very  brave  flame,  an'  you 
speak  true.  I  shall  go  to  Billings,  an'  trust  everything 
with  you." 

I  was  flabbergasted  clear  out  o'  line  at  this;  but  Olaf 
packed  some  stuff  on  one  hoss,  flung  his  saddle  on  another, 
an'  set  off  at  once.  Now,  I  knew  Olaf  to  be  slow  an'  stub- 
born, an'  I  could  n't  see  through  this. 

After  Olaf  had  rode  out  o'  sight  to  the  north,  Horace  sez : 
"  Has  he  allus  been  crazy  ?  " 

"  He  's  not  crazy,"  sez  I. 

"  Then  what  did  he  mean  by  sayin'  I  had  a  very  brave 
flame  an'  that  I  spoke  true  ?  "  sez  Horace.  "  Course  he  's 
crazy.  Did  n't  you  notice  his  eyes." 

"  Yes,"  I  sez,  "  I  've  noticed  his  eyes  a  lot ;  but  I  don't 
think  he 's  crazy  —  except  in  thinkin'  'at  Kit  Murray  '11 
marry  him.  Why,  she  would  as  soon  think  o'  marryin'  a 
he-bear  as  Olaf." 

"  Well,  I  think  they  have  drove  him  crazy,"  sez  Horace ; 
"  but  I  'm  goin'  to  bestir  myself  in  his  favor." 

He  took  himself  as  serious  as  if  he  had  been  Napoleon 
an'  David  both ;  an'  I  could  smell  trouble  plain.  We  decided 
to  move  our  camp  down  to  Olaf's,  an'  wrangle  his  herd  into 
the  Spread  every  night.  Pearl  Crick  Spread  was  as  fine 
a  little  valley  as  a  body  ever  saw;  filled  with  cottonwoods 
an'  snugglin'  down  out  o'  the  wind  behind  high  benches. 
The  crick  came  in  through  a  gorge,  an'  went  out  through 
a  gorge ;  an'  it  was  plain  to  me  that  the  Spread  was  worth 
fightin'  for. 

When  we  got  back  to  the  camp  we  found  that  a  couple  o' 


2i8  FRIAR    TUCK 

Cross  brand  boys  had  happened  along,  by  accident,  of 
course,  an'  were  tryin'  to  swap  news  o'  the  weather  for 
news  o'  the  neighbors.  Our  crowd  had  n't  loosened  up 
none;  and  as  soon  as  we  came  back  the  Cross-branders 
left. 

Horace  looked  pleased.  "  I  bet  I  got  one  of  'em  last 
night,"  sez  he,  shakin'  his  head. 

Well,  we  all  grinned,  we  could  n't  help  it.  "  I  bet  you 
get  another  chance  at  'em,  too,"  sez  Slim.  Our  outfit  had 
been  peaceable  for  so  long  that  the  prospect  of  trouble 
actually  made  us  feel  nervous  enough  to  show  it. 

We  moved  down  to  Olaf's,  and  each  night  we  fetched  in 
his  little  bunch  o'  cows,  an'  allus  kept  up  some  hosses  in  the 
corral.  The  Cross-branders  used  to  wander  by  our  place 
purty  frequent,  but  allus  in  the  matter  o'  business. 

One  day,  after  we  'd  been  livin'  at  Olaf's  about  a  week, 
Badger-face  Flannigan,  an'  a  pair  of  as  mean-lookin' 
Greasers  as  ever  I  saw,  came  ridin'  along.  Me  an'  Horace 
had  been  up  in  the  hills  after  some  fresh  meat,  an'  we  see 
them  before  they  saw  us.  They  were  ridin'  slow  an'  snoopin' 
about  to  see  what  they  could  pick  up,  an'  when  they  saw  us 
they  looked  a  bit  shifty  for  a  moment. 

Then  Badger  wrinkled  up  his  face  in  what  was  meant 
for  a  friendly  grin,  an'  sez :  "  Hello,  fellers.  Have  you-un's 
bought  Olaf  out  ?  " 

"  Nope,"  sez  I.  "  We  're  just  out  here  for  a  little  huntin' ; 
an'  Olaf  got  us  to  look  after  his  stuff  for  a  few  days  while 
he  went  visitin'." 

"  Was  n't  the'  any  huntin'  closer  to  home  ?  "  sez  Badger- 
face,  a  little  sarcastic. 

"  Not  the  kind  o'  huntin'  we  prefer,"  sez  Horace,  sort  o' 
dreamy  like. 


A    PROGRESSIVE    HUNT  219 

Badger-face  drilled  a  look  into  Horace,  who  had  put  on 
his  most  no-account  expression.  "  What 's  your  favorite 
game,"  sez  he,  "snow-shoe  rabbits?" 

"  Oh,  no,"  drawled  Horace  as  if  he  felt  sleepy,  "  silver- 
tips  an'  humans  is  our  favorite  game;  but  o'  course  the 
spring  is  the  best  time  —  for  silver-tips." 

"  Where  might  you  be  from  ?  "  asked  Badger-face. 

"  I  might  be  from  Arizona  or  Texas,"  sez  Horace ;  "  but 
I  ain't.  I  'm  a  regular  dude.  Can't  you  tell  by  my 
whiskers  ?  " 

Badger-face  was  so  puzzled  when  Horace  gave  a  little 
rat-laugh  that  I  had  to  laugh  too;  and  ya  could  see  the 
blood  come  into  Badger's  cheeks,  but  still,  he  could  n't  savvy 
this  sort  o'  game,  so  he  could  n't  quite  figure  out  how  to 
start  anything. 

Horace  had  practiced  what  he  called  a  muscle-lift,  which 
he  said  he  used  to  see  the  other  kids  do  on  parallel  bars ;  and 
now  he  slipped  to  the  ground  an'  tightened  his  cinch  an' 
cussed  about  the  way  it  had  come  loose,  as  natural  as  life. 
Then  he  put  one  hand  on  the  horn  an'  the  other  on  the  cantle 
an'  drew  himself  up  slow.  He  kept  on  pushin'  himself 
after  his  breast  had  come  above  the  saddle  until  he  rested 
at  arm's  length.  Then  he  flipped  his  right  leg  over,  an'  took 
his  seat  as  though  it  was  nothin'  at  all.  Any  one  could  see 
it  was  a  genuwine  stunt,  though  it  was  of  no  earthly  use  to 
a  ridin'  man. 

Now,  just  because  the'  was  no  sense  to  this  antic,  it  made 
more  of  an  impression  on  Badger-face  than  the  fanciest  sort 
o'  shootin'  or  ropin'  would  'a'  done ;  an'  he  puzzled  over  what 
sort  of  a  speciment  Horace  might  be,  till  it  showed  in  his 
face. 

"  Come  on  down  an'  have  supper  with  us,"  sez  Horace. 


220  FRIAR    TUCK 

"  You  can  see  for  yourself  what  the  prospect  for  fresh  meat 
is ;  so  you  can  be  sure  of  a  welcome." 

"  No,  we  can't  very  well  come  this  evenin',"  sez  Badger- 
face. 

"  Why  not  ?  "  sez  Horace.  "  You  look  to  me  like  a  man 
who  was  gettin'  bilious  for  the  want  of  a  little  socia- 
bility. Come  on  down  an'  we  '11  swap  stories,  an'  have 
a  few  drinks,  an'  I  '11  sing  ya  the  best  song  you  ever 
hearkened  to." 

"  No,  we  got  to  be  goin',"  sez  Badger- face ;  an'  he  an' 
the  Greasers  rode  off  while  Horace  chuckled  under  his 
breath  as  merry  as  a  magpie. 

"  That 's  what  you  call  a  bad  man,  is  it  ?  "  sez  he.  "  I  tell 
you  that  feller  's  a  rank  coward." 

"  Would  you  have  the  nerve  to  pick  up  a  horn-toad  ?  " 
sez  I. 

"  No,"  sez  he ;   "  'cause  they  're  poison." 

"  They  ain't  no  more  poison  'n  a  frog  is,"  I  sez ;  "  but 
most  people  thinks  they  are,  an'  that  is  why  strangers  are 
afraid  of  'em.  Now,  Badger-face  ain't  no  coward.  He 's 
a  shootin'  man ;  but  he  can't  make  you  out,  an'  this  is  what 
makes  him  shy  of  ya." 

"  Well,"  sez  Horace,  "  I  'd  rather  be  a  free  horn-toad 
than  a  mule  in  harness.  Come  on,  let 's  go  eat." 

The  next  afternoon  Horace  went  along  to  help  bring  in 
the  bunch  o'  cattle;  an'  some  one  up  on  the  hill  took  a  shot 
at  him.  He  could  n't  ride  up  the  hill,  so  he  hopped  off  the 
pony,  an'  started  up  on  foot.  Mexican  Slim  was  closest  to 
him,  an'  he  started  after;  but  the  feller  got  away  without 
leavin'  any  trace.  Horace  was  wonderful  pleased  about  it, 
an'  strutted  more  than  common. 

"  There  now,"  sez  he  after  supper ;   "  do  you  mean  to  tell 


A    PROGRESSIVE    HUNT  221 

me  'at  that  feller  was  n't  a  coward  ?    Why  the'  ain't  enough 
sand  in  their  whole  outfit  to  blind  a  flea ! " 

We  just  set  an'  smoked  in  silence.  When  a  feller  as  little 
as  him  once  begins  to  crow,  the's  nothin'  to  do  but  wait  till 
his  spurs  get  clipped. 


CHAPTER   TWENTY-THREE 

A   LITTLE   GUN-PLAY 

IT  's  curious  how  hard  it  is,  sometimes,  to  get  trouble 
started.  We  all  knew  'at  the  Cross-branders  was  ready 
to  clean  us  out,  an'  itchin'  for  the  job;  but  the's  one 
curious  little  holdback  in  the  make-up  of  every  healthy 
animal  in  the  world.  Every  sane  animal  the'  is  wants 
self-defence  as  his  excuse  for  takin'  life.  I  admit  that 
now  and  again  beasts  an'  men  both  get  a  sort  o'  crazy 
blood-lust,  an'  just  kill  for  the  sake  of  it ;  but  it 's  the 
rare  exception. 

One  of  us  allus  made  it  a  point  to  go  along  with  Horace ; 
an'  most  times  when  we'd  meet  up  with  any  o'  the  Cross- 
branders,  they  'd  never  miss  the  chance  to  fling  some  polite 
smart  talk  at  him;  but  the  little  cuss  could  sass  back 
sharper  'n  they  could,  an'  I  reckon  they  was  suspicious  that 
he  would  n't  'a'  been  so  cool  if  he  had  n't  had  bigger  backin' 
than  was  in  sight.  It  was  perfectly  natural  to  think  'at  he 
had  been  sent  out  as  a  lure  by  some  big  cattle  outfit,  or  even 
the  government;  so  they  went  cautious  till  they  could  nose 
out  the  game. 

One  day  Badger-face  an'  the  two  Greasers  came  along 
when  Horace  was  out  ridin'  with  Tillte  Dutch.  Dutch 
was  one  o'  these  innocent-lookin'  Germans  —  big,  wide-open 
eyes,  a  half  smile,  an'  a  sort  of  a  leanin'  to  fat.  He  never 
had  but  one  come-back  to  anything  —  which  was  to  splutter ; 
but  he  was  dependable  in  a  pinch. 


A    LITTLE    GUN-PLAY  223 

"  Whatever  made  you  so  unspeakable  little?  "  sez  Badger- 
face  to  Horace. 

Horace  looked  behind  him,  an'  all  about,  an'  then  sez  in 
surprise :  "  Who,  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,  you,"  sez  Badger- face.  "  You  seem  to  dry  down 
a  little  smaller  each  day." 

"  Well,"  sez  Horace,  speakin'  in  a  low  secret-tellin'  tone, 
"  I  '11  tell  ya ;  but  I  don't  want  ya  to  blab  it  to  every  one  ya 
see.  When  I  was  a  young  chap,  I  used  to  go  with  a  big, 
awkward,  potato-brained  slob,  about  your  size.  I  could  out- 
shoot  him,  out-ride  him,  run  circles  around  him,  an'  think 
seven  times  while  he  was  squeezin'  the  cells  of  his  brain  so 
they  'd  touch  up  again'  each  other ;  but  one  day  he  made  a 
bet  that  he  could  eat  more  hog-meat  'n  I  could ;  an'  he  won 
the  bet.  When  I  found  out  that  the'  was  one  single  thing  'at 
this  big,  loose- jointed  galoot  could  beat  me  at,  I  felt  so  blame 
small  that  I  never  got  over  it,  an'  this  is  why  I  disguise 
myself  in  these  whiskers." 

The  two  Greasers  could  n't  help  but  grin,  an'  the  fool 
Dutchman  sniggered.  This  was  more  'n  Badger-face  could 
stand.  He  shot  his  hand  across  an'  pulled  his  gun  quick  as 
a  flash;  but  Horace  didn't  move,  he  just  sat  still,  with  a 
friendly  smile  on  his  face;  an'  Badger-face  sat  there  with 
his  gun  in  his  hand,  scowlin'  jerk-lightnin'  at  him. 

Spider  an'  Slim  had  gone  after  meat  that  day,  an'  they 
came  into  view  with  the  carcase  of  a  doe,  just  as  Badger 
drew  his  gun.  Me  an'  Tank  was  listed  to  wrangle  in  the 
bunch,  an'  we  came  ridin'  along  just  after  the  other  two 
came  into  view.  The  Greasers  gave  a  little  cough  an' 
Badger- face  looked  up  an'  saw  us.  It  looked  like  a  put-up 
job,  all  right ;  an'  chariots  of  fire,  but  he  was  mad !  Pullin' 
a  gun  on  a  man  is  the  same  as  shootin'  at  him.  Badger-face 


224  FRIAR    TUCK 

had  been  tricked  into  givin'  us  just  grounds  to  slaughter 
him,  and  he  wasn't  quite  sure  what  move  to  make  next. 
Our  outfit  had  been  purty  well  advertized,  through  cleanin' 
out  the  Brophy  gang,  me  an'  Mexican  Slim  were  both  two- 
gun  men  an'  known  to  be  quick  an'  accurate,  while  Tank 
was  ever-lastin'ly  gettin'  into  trouble,  owin'  to  his  friendly 
feelin's  for  liquor.  As  we  drew  closer  we  made  our  smoke- 
wagons  ready,  while  his  two  Greasers  kept  their  hands  in 
plain  view,  and  harmless. 

Badger  had  a  trapped  look  in  his  face ;  but  he  did  n't  say 
anything,  an'  he  did  n't  cover  Horace  with  his  gun ;  he  just 
held  it  ready.  We  did  the  same  with  ours,  an'  it  was  the 
foolest  lookin'  group  I  was  ever  part  of.  Ol'  Tank  was  the 
one  who  finally  started  things.  "  Look  here,  Badger-face," 
he  bellowed,  "  if  you  so  much  as  harm  a  hair  o'  those  blamed 
ol'  whiskers,  why,  we  '11  have  to  put  ya  out  o'  business." 

Horace  turned  an'  looked  at  Tank  in  surprise.  "  Aw,  put 
up  your  gun,"  he  said.  "  Badger-face  ain't  in  earnest.  We 
had  an  argument  the  other  day :  I  said  'at  a  man  lost  time 
crossin'  his  hand  to  pull  his  gun,  an'  he  said  it  could  be  done 
quicker  that  way  'n  any  other;  so  to-day  he  joked  me  about 
bein'  as  small  in  the  body  as  he  is  in  the  brain,  an'  I  came 
back  at  him,  also  jokin'  in  a  friendly  way ;  an'  he  took  this 
excuse  to  pull  his  gun  on  me,  without  any  ill  intent;  but 
only  to  prove  how  quick  he  could  do  it.  It  stuck  in  his 
holster,  though ;  an'  if  we  'd  been  in  earnest,  I  'd  have  had 
to  kill  him.  I  've  had  him  covered  all  this  time ;  but  you 
can  see  for  yourselves  'at  his  gun  ain't  cocked.  Now  put  up 
your  guns,  and  next  time,  don't  be  silly." 

I  know  'at  Horace  did  n't  have  any  gun  in  his  hand  when 
we  came  up;  but  when  he  stopped  speakin',  he  pulled  his 
hand  with  a  cocked  gun  in  it  out  from  under  his  hoss's 


A    LITTLE    GUN-PLAY  225 

mane,  an'  Badger-face  was  the  mpst  surprised  of  any 
of  us. 

"  Come  on  down  to  supper,  Badger-face,  an'  I  '11  sing  ya 
my  song,"  sez  Horace.  "  We  allus  seem  to  have  fresh  deer- 
meat  when  you  happen  along." 

We  all  put  up  our  guns  along  with  Badger-face,  an'  he 
mumbled  some  sort  of  an  excuse  an'  rode  away  with  the 
Greasers.  O'  course  we  'd  ought  to  'a'  killed  him  right 
then,  'cause  he  was  more  full  o'  hate  than  a  rattler ;  but  the 
simple  truth  was,  that  Horace  had  gained  control  over  us 
complete,  an'  we  let  him  have  his  way. 

"  When  did  you  get  that  gun  in  your  hand,  Horace?"  I 
sez  to  him  after  supper.  "  You  did  n't  have  no  gun  when 
I  rode  up." 

"  That 's  what 's  puzzlin'  Badger-face  right  this  minute," 
sez  Horace.  "  I  did  n't  draw  that  gun  until  Tank  made  his 
talk;  but  at  the  same  time  I  wasn't  as  defenceless  as  I 
looked.  I  have  told  you  all  the  time  'at  that  man  did  n't  have 
the  nerve  to  harm  me.  He  's  a  coward." 

"  I  reckon  you  '11  be  killed  one  o'  these  days,  still  believin' 
that,"  sez  ol'  Tank.  "  How  much  fightin'  experience  have 
you  ever  had  ?  " 

"  How  much  did  Thesis  ever  have  ?  "  asked  Horace. 

"  Never  heard  of  him,"  sez  Tank.    "  Who  was  he?  " 

"  He  was  a  Greek  hero,"  sez  Horace.  "  He  never  had 
had  a  fight  till  he  started  out  to  go  to  his  father;  but  he 
cleaned  out  all  the  toughs  along  the  way,  an'  when  he 
reached  his  father,  who  was  king  of  Athens,  he  found 
'em  just  ready  to  send  out  seven  young  men  an'  seven 
maidens,  which  they  offered  up  each  year  to  the  Minnietor, 
which  was  a  beast  with  the  body  of  a  man,  and  the  head 
of  a  bull,  just  like  Badger-face.  Thesis  volunteered,  an' 


226  FRIAR    TUCK 

what  he  did  was  to  kill  the  Minnietor  an'  end  all  that 
nonsense." 

"  Well,  I  never  heard  tell  o'  that  before,  an'  I  don't  more  'n 
half  believe  it  now,"  sez  Tank ;  "  but  I  'm  willin'  to  bet  four 
dollars  'at  the  Minnietor  did  n't  know  as  much  about  gun- 
fightin'  as  what  Badger-face  does.  He'll  get  ya  yet,  you 
see  if  he  don't." 

"  Tell  ya  what  I  'm  game  to  do,"  sez  Horace.  "  I  'm  game 
to  go  right  to  Ty  Jones's  ranch  house  alone.  Do  ya  dare 
me?" 

"  No,  you  don't  do  that,"  sez  I.  "  That 's  a  heap  different 
proposition.  Ty  Jones  would  n't  pull  his  gun  without 
shootin' ;  and  besides,  he  'd  most  likely  set  his  dogs  on  ya." 

"  Well,  I  own  up  'at  I  don't  want  no  dealin's  with  dogs," 
sez  Horace,  thoughtful.  "  Dogs  have  n't  enough  imagination 
to  work  on.  If  they  're  trained  to  bite,  why,  that 's  what 
they  do ;  but  give  a  human  half  a  chance,  an'  he  '11  imagine 
a  lot  o'  things  which  are  not  so.  You  could  n't  tell  Badger- 
face  a  big  enough  tale  about  me  to  make  him  doubt  it.  I 
tell  ya,  I  got  him  scared." 

We  did  n't  argue  with  him  none ;  the'  was  some  doubt 
about  him  havin'  Badger-face  fooled ;  but  the'  was  n't  any 
doubt  about  him  havin'  himself  fooled  —  which  is  the  main 
thing  after  all,  I  reckon.  Anyway,  we  let  Horace  sit 
there  the  whole  evenin',  tellin'  Greek-hero  tales  which 
must  have  blistered  the  imagination  o'  the  feller  'at  first 
made  'em  up. 

Along  about  nine  o'clock  we  began  to  stretch  an'  yawn ; 
but  before  we  got  to  bed,  Mexican  Slim  said  'at  he  heard  a 
noise  at  the  corral,  an'  we  all  looked  at  one  another,  thinkin' 
it  was  the  Cross-branders ;  but  Horace  was  the  first  one  to 
get  back  into  his  boots  an'  belt ;  an'  he  also  insisted  on  bein' 


A    LITTLE    GUN-PLAY  227 

the  first  to  open  the  door,  which  he  did  as  soon  as  we  blew 
out  the  candle.  Then  we  all  filed  out  an'  sneaked  down 
toward  the  corral;  but  first  thing  we  knew,  a  voice  out  o' 
the  dark  whispered :  "  This  is  me  —  Olaf .  Is  everything 
all  right?" 

We  told  him  it  was,  an'  he  whistled  three  times.  You 
could  'a'  knocked  me  down  with  a  feather  when  Kit  Murray 
an'  the  Friar  came  ridin'  up ;  an'  then  we  turned  the  ponies 
loose  an'  went  into  the  house.  It  only  had  two  rooms, 
countin'  the  lean-to  kitchen,  an'  we  made  consid'able  of  a 
crowd;  but  we  were  all  in  good  spirits,  on  account  of  Olaf 
gettin'  the  girl  an'  us  bein'  able  to  hand  him  back  his  stuff 
with  not  one  head  missin'. 

It  had  been  some  interval  since  I  'd  seen  Kit  Murray,  an' 
I  was  surprised  to  view  the  change  in  her.  She  did  n't  look 
so  much  older,  but  all  the  recklessness  had  gone  out  of  her 
face,  an'  it  had  a  sort  of  a  quiet,  holy  look  about  it.  "  Kit," 
I  sez,  "  I  wish  ya  all  the  joy  the'  is ;  but  I  'd  'a'  been  willin' 
to  have  bet  my  eyes  'at  you  'd  never  take  Olaf.  I  was  glad 
to  see  him  go  up  after  ya,  'cause  gettin'  knocked  on  the  head 
is  some  better  'n  bein'  kept  hangin'  on  a  hook ;  but  you  sure 
got  your  nerve  with  ya.  This  homestead  is  purty  likely  to 
get  in  some  other  folks'  way." 

Kit  had  as  snappy  a  pair  o'  black  eyes  as  was  ever  stuck 
in  a  face ;  and  now  they  flashed  out  full  power.  "  I  know 
it's  goin'  to  be  hard  to  hold  this  place,"  sez  she,  "but  I 
reckon  I  can  help  a  little.  I  can  ride  an'  shoot  as  well  as  a 
man,  if  I  have  to,  and  you  know  it.  I  don't  want  anything 
but  the  quietest  sort  of  a  life  the'  is ;  but  I  'm  ready  to  stand 
for  any  sort  o'  luck  'at  comes  along.  As  for  Olaf,  he 's  the 
only  man  in  the  world  for  me.  I  saw  something  o'  the  big 
cities  back  east,  an'  Billings,  an'  the  boys  on  the  range  here, 


228  FRIAR    TUCK 

and  out  of  'em  all,  Olaf  's  my  man.    The  thing  I  hope  more  'n 
anything  else  is,  that  we  can  die  together." 

Her  voice  caused  a  hush  to  come  to  the  room.  I  had 
meant  to  be  jovial  an'  hearty;  but  the'  was  an  undercurrent 
of  earnestness  in  her  voice  which  put  a  tingle  into  a 
feller.  Kit  Murray  had  changed  a  heap,  but  all  for  the 
better. 

Olaf  cleared  his  throat,  an'  we  all  took  a  look  at  him.  He 
had  changed,  too.  He  had  lost  the  chained-bear  look  he 
generally  wore,  an'  the'  was  a  light  o'  pride  an'  satisfaction 
in  his  face  which  was  good  to  look  upon.  "  Boys,"  he  said, 
"  I  've  been  purty  tough  an'  unsociable,  an'  I  don't  see  why 
you  've  took  so  much  trouble  for  me ;  but  I  tell  ya  right 
here  that  I  stand  ready  to  square  it  in  any  way  or  at  any 
time  I  can.  Now,  it  seems  mighty  funny  'at  Kit  Murray 
should  love  me,  an'  I  can't  account  for  it  any  more  'n  you 
can ;  but  I  knew  right  from  the  start  that  she  did  love  me  — 
I  could  tell  by  the  light.  If  ever  the  time  comes  that  she 
don't  love  me  any  more,  I  get  out  of  her  way,  that 's  all  about 
that ;  but  I  'm  not  goin'  to  make  her  stay  here  any  longer  'n 
I  have  to.  I  sell  out  when  I  get  the  first  chance.  Friar 
Tuck,  he  softened  my  heart,  an'  he  watched  over  her.  He 's 
a  man.  That 's  all  I  can  say." 

Well,  this  was  an  all-around  noble  speech  for  a  stone 
image  like  Olaf  had  been,  an'  we  cheered  him  to  the  echo; 
but  Horace  had  sort  o'  been  jostled  to  the  outside  an'  forgot. 
Now,  he  come  forward  an'  shook  Olaf  by  the  hand  an'  con- 
gratulated him,  an'  sez :  "  The's  one  thing  I  'd  like  mightily 
to  know,  an'  that  is  —  what  the  deuce  do  you  mean  by  this 
light  you  're  allus  alludin'  to  ?  " 

Olaf  was  some  embarrassed ;  but  it  never  seemed  to  fuss 
Horace  any  when  he  had  turned  all  the  fur  the'  was  in  sight 


A    LITTLE    GUN-PLAY  229 

the  wrong  way;  so  he  just  waited  patiently  while  Olaf 
spluttered  about  it. 

"  I  don't  know  myself,"  sez  Olaf.  "  Always,  since  I  was 
a  little  child,  I  have  seen  a  floating  light  about  people.  I 
thought  every  one  saw  this  light  an'  I  spoke  of  it  when  I 
was  a  child  an'  asked  my  mother  about  it  many  times ;  but 
at  first  she  thought  I  lie,  an'  then  she  thought  my  head  was 
wrong;  so  I  stopped  talkin'  about  it;  but  always  I  see  it 
an'  it  changes  with  the  feelings  and  with  the  health.  All  the 
colors  and  shades  I  cannot  read,  but  some  I  know.  I  knew 
that  Kit  Murray  loved  me  before  she  knew  it,  and  I  knew 
that  the  Friar  was  a  true  man  when  they  told  me  tales  of 
him.  Animals,  too,  have  this  floatin'  light  about  'em,  an' 
I  can  tell  when  they  are  frightened  an'  when  they  are  mean. 
This  is  why  I  handle  hosses  without  trouble.  Now  I  do  not 
know  why  my  eyes  are  this  way ;  but  I  have  told  you  because 
you  have  been  good  friends  to  me.  I  do  not  want  you  to 
tell  of  this  because  it  makes  people  think  I  am  crazy." 

"  Course  it  does,"  sez  Horace.  "  It  made  me  think  you 
were  crazy.  I  never  heard  of  anything  like  this  before.  Tell 
me  some  more  about  it." 

"  There  is  no  more  to  tell,"  sez  Olaf.  "  When  I  see  the 
flame  I  do  not  see  the  people.  The  flame  wavers  about  them, 
and  sometimes  I  have  seen  it  at  night,  but  not  often.  I  do 
nothing  to  make  myself  see  this  way.  Always  my  eyes  did 
this  even  when  I  was  only  a  baby." 

"  Well,  you  have  everything  beat  I  ever  saw  yet,"  sez 
Horace.  "  What  do  you  think  o'  this,  Friar?  " 

"  I  never  heard  of  such  a  case,"  sez  the  Friar ;  "  although 
it  may  have  been  that  many  have  had  this  gift  to  some  ex- 
tent. I  think  it  is  due  to  the  peculiar  blue  of  Olaf's  eyes. 
I  think  that  this  blue  detects  colors  or  rays,  not  visible  to 


230  FRIAR    TUCK 

ordinary    eyes.      I    wish   that    some    scientist   would    study 
them." 

"  I  '11  pay  your  way  back  East,  Olaf,"  sez  Horace,  "  if 
you  '11  have  your  eyes  tested." 

"  No,  no,"  sez  Olaf,  shakin'  his  head.  "  I  don't  want  to 
be  a  freak.  What  is  the  use  ?  I  can  not  tell  how  I  do  it,  so 
it  cannot  be  learned ;  and  I  do  not  want  things  put  into  my 
eyes  for  experiments.  No,  I  will  not  do  it." 

"  Tell  me  how  Badger-face  looks  to  you,"  sez  Horace. 

"  Oh,  he  is  bad,"  sez  Olaf.  "  He  has  the  hate  color,  he 
loves  to  kill;  but  he  is  like  the  wolf;  he  does  not  like  the 
fight,  he  wants  always  to  kill  in  secret." 

"  I  bet  my  eyes  are  a  little  like  yours,"  sez  Horace,  noddin' 
his  head.  "  I  knew  'at  Badger-face  was  this  way  as  soon 
as  I  saw  him." 

"  Oh,  here  now,"  sez  the  Friar.  "  You  are  puttin'  down 
a  special  gift  to  the  level  of  shrewd  character-readin'." 

"  What  sort  of  a  flame  does  a  dead  person  have,  Olaf  ?  " 
sez  Horace. 

A  queer  look  came  into  Olaf's  face,  a  half-scared  look. 
"  A  dead  person  has  no  flame,"  sez  he,  with  a  little  shudder. 
"  It  is  a  bad  sight.  I  have  watched ;  I  have  seen  the  soul 
leave.  When  a  man  is  killed,  the  savage  purple  color  fades 
into  the  yellow  of  fear,  then  comes  the  blue,  it  gets  fainter 
and  fainter  around  the  body;  but  it  gathers  like  a  cloud 
above,  and  then  it  is  silver  gray,  like  moonshine.  It  is  not 
in  the  shape  of  the  body,  it  is  just  a  cloud.  It  floats  away. 
That  is  all." 

"  Well,  that 's  enough,"  sez  Horace.  "  Can  you  see  any 
flame  about  a  sleeping  person  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  sez  Olaf,  "  just  like  about  a  waking  person ;  and 
there  is  marks  over  a  wound  or  a  sick  place." 


A    LITTLE    GUN-PLAY  231 

"  Well,  Mrs.  Svenson,"  sez  Horace  to  Kit,  "  you  '11  have 
to  be  mighty  careful  or  your  husband  will  find  you  out." 

"  I  am  perfectly  willin',''  sez  Kit  with  a  proud  little  smile. 
She  was  game,  all  right,  Kit  was. 

"  That  is  why  I  say  it  is  all  right,"  sez  Olaf.  "  She  is 
young,  she  cannot  know  how  she  will  change.  If  ever  she 
no  longer  love  me,  I  will  not  bother  her.  That  would  be 
a  foolishness ;  but  so  long  as  she  love  me,  no  other  man  will 
bother  her.  That  would  be  devilishness ! " 

"  You  certainly  have  a  nice,  simple  scheme  of  life,"  sez 
Horace.  "  If  ever  you  change  your  mind,  I  '11  put  up  the 
money  to  take  you  back  East,  an'  pay  you  high  wages." 

"  No,"  sez  Olaf,  "  I  hate  circuses  an'  shows,  an'  such 
things.  I  not  go." 

"  You  say  you  can  tell  sick  places,  an'  fear,  an'  hate,  an' 
honesty,"  sez  Horace.  "  Now,  when  I  came  out  here,  I  was 
just  punk  all  over.  You  give  me  a  look-over,  an'  tell  right 
out  what  you  see." 

At  first  Olaf  shook  his  head,  but  we  finally  coaxed  him 
into  it;  an'  he  opened  his  eyes  wide  an'  looked  at  Horace. 
As  he  looked  the  blue  in  his  eyes  got  deeper  an'  deeper,  like 
the  flowers  on  the  benches  in  June,  then  when  the  pupil  was 
plumb  closed,  the  blue  got  lighter  again,  and  he  said :  "  You 
have  not  one  sick  point,  you  have  good  thoughts,  you  are 
very  brave,  you  are  too  brave  —  you  are  reckless.  You  have 
very  great  vitality,  an'  will  live  to  be  very  old  —  unless  you 
get  killed.  I  knew  an  old  Injun  —  over  a  hundred  years  old 
he  was  —  he  had  a  flame  like  yours.  It  is  strange." 

You  could  actually  see  Horace  swellin'  up  with  vanity  at 
this;  but  it  made  ol'  Tank  Williams  hot  to  see  such  a  fuss 
made  about  a  small-caliber  cuss ;  so  he  rumbles  around  in  his 
throat  a  minute,  an'  sez :  "  Well,  you  fellers  can  fool  around 


232  FRIAR    TUCK 

all  night  havin'  your  souls  made  light  of,  if  ya  want  to ;  but 
as  for  me  I  'm  goin'  to  bed." 

Kit  insisted  that  we  sleep  on  the  floor  just  as  we  had  been, 
while  she  an'  Olaf  bunked  in  the  lean-to;  but  a  warm 
chinook  had  been  blowin'  all  day,  an'  it  was  soft  an'  pleasant, 
so  we  took  our  beds  out  in  the  cottonwoods.  Horace  an' 
the  Friar  got  clinched  into  some  kind  of  a  discussion;  but 
the  rest  of  us  dropped  off  about  as  soon  as  we  stretched  out. 
The  moon  was  just  risin',  an'  one  sharp  peak  covered  with 
glitterin'  snow  stood  up  back  o'  the  rim.  I  remember  thinkin' 
it  might  be  part  o'  the  old  earth's  shiny  soul. 


CHAPTER  TWENTY-FOUR 

NIGHT-PROWLERS 

WHENEVER  the's  anything  on  my  mind  I  sleep  purty  light  ; 
an'  the  whole  Cross  brand  outfit  was  on  my  mind  that  night ; 
so  it 's  not  surprisin'  that  I  woke  up  after  a  bit.  The  moon 
had  climbed  consid'able,  an'  the  stars  told  me  it  was  about 
two.  I  had  been  sleepin'  alone;  Horace  havin'  decided  to 
crawl  in  with  the  Friar  so  they  could  quarrel  at  short  range. 

The  Friar's  tarp  was  next  to  mine,  an'  I  raised  myself  on 
my  elbow  an'  looked  at  it.  I  could  hear  him  breathin'  nat- 
ural, an'  the  bulk  of  him  was  so  large  that  Horace  would  n't 
have  made  much  of  a  mound  anyway ;  so  at  first  I  could  n't 
tell  whether  he  was  there  or  not.  I  crept  out  till  I  could  sit 
up  an'  get  a  clear  view ;  but  Horace  was  n't  there,  so  I  put 
on  my  boots  as  quick  as  ever. 

I  sneaked  over  to  the  Friar's  tarp ;  but  Horace's  hat  was 
gone,  so  I  knew  he  was  up  to  some  mischief,  an'  started  for 
the  corral  to  see  if  he  had  taken  a  hoss.  What  I  feared  was, 
that  he  had  got  to  thinkin'  about  what  a  super-wonderful 
flame  he  had,  and  had  decided  to  give  it  a  fair  work-out  by 
sneakin'  down  to  Ty  Jones's  on  his  own  hook.  I  was  worried 
about  this  because  I  knew  they  'd  do  for  him  in  a  minute,  if 
they  'd  catch  him  where  they  could  hide  all  traces. 

Olaf  had  built  a  large  square  corral  an'  a  smaller  round 
one,  to  do  his  ropin'  in ;  and  when  I  reached  the  near  side  o' 
the  square  one,  I  heard  a  slight  noise  near  the  gate  of  the 
round  one.  I  peered  through  the  poles  of  the  corral,  but  the 


234  FRIAR    TUCK 

dividin'  fence  got  in  the  road  so  'at  I  couldn't  see,  an'  I 
started  to  prowl  around.  All  of  a  sudden,  Horace's  squeaky 
tenor  piped  out :  "  Halt " ;  an'  I  flattened  out  on  the  ground, 
thinkin'  he  had  spotted  me;  but  just  then  the'  was  a 
smothered  curse  from  the  round  corral,  an'  when  I  started 
to  get  up  I  saw  Badger-face  vault  over  the  fence  in  the 
direction  of  Horace's  voice. 

Then  I  saw  Horace  standin'  behind  a  clump  with  his  gun 
on  Badger-face.  "  Put  up  your  hands,"  sez  Horace. 

Badger  was  runnin'  straight  for  him;  but  he  put  up  his 
hands  at  this  order,  and  came  to  a  slow  stop  about  five  feet 
from  Horace.  The  square  corral  was  still  between  me  an' 
them,  an'  I  drew  my  right  gun  an'  started  around,  keepin'  my 
eye  on  'em  as  much  as  I  could  through  the  poles. 

"  I  reckon  I  got  ya  this  time,"  sez  Horace,  just  as  I 
reached  the  corner. 

"  I  reckon  you  have,"  sez  Badger  in  a  give-up  voice ;  but 
at  the  same  moment  he  took  a  step  forward,  threw  his  body 
back,  an'  kicked  the  gun  out  of  Horace's  hand.  Then  he 
lunged  forward  an'  got  Horace  by  the  throat,  flung  him  on 
his  back  an'  straddled  him  —  an'  I  broke  for  'em  on  the  run. 
Just  before  I  reached  'em,  the'  came  a  heavy,  muffled  report, 
an'  Badger-face  fell  on  his  side  an'  rolled  over  on  his  back, 
clutchin'  at  his  breast. 

Horace  rose  to  his  feet,  holdin'  a  toy  pistol,  put  his  hands 
on  his  hips,  looked  down  at  Badger-face,  an'  sez :  "  If  you  'd 
'a'  just  asked  Olaf  what  kind  of  a  light  I  give  out,  you  'd  'a' 
stayed  at  home  an'  saved  your  life."  That 's  how  nervous 
Horace  was. 

"  Don't  stand  an'  talk  to  a  shot  man,"  I  sez.  "  Allus  get 
his  gun  first." 

Horace  gave  a  jump  at  the  sound  o'  my  voice,  an'  covered 


NIGHT-PROWLERS  235 

me  with  his  pop-gun.  "  Oh,  it 's  you,  is  it?  "  he  sez.  "  Well, 
then,  you  get  his  gun ;  but  I  don't  much  think  he  can  use  it." 

By  the  time  I  had  lifted  Badger's  gun,  the  other  boys  were 
arrivin',  an'  when  they  found  that  Horace  had  gone  out 
alone  an'  shot  a  hole  through  Badger-face,  they  certainly 
was  some  surprised.  Purty  soon  Kit  Murray  came  out  with 
Olaf,  an'  then  Horace  told  about  not  feelin'  sleepy  an'  bein' 
so  disgusted  at  the  way  we  were  snorin'  that  he  had  got 
up  to  take  a  little  stroll.  He  said  he  just  went  toward  the 
corral  'cause  that  was  the  least  uninterestin'  place  he  could 
think  of,  and  that  Badger  had  sneaked  down  an'  started  to 
cut  the  stirrups  off  the  saddles  right  before  his  eyes. 

"  I  gave  him  all  the  time  he  wanted,"  sez  Horace,  "  so  'at 
there  would  n't  be  any  doubt  as  to  his  intentions.  I  reckon 
'at  cuttin'  up  saddles  in  another  man's  corral  is  goin'  about 
far  enough,  ain't  it?" 

Just  then  the  Friar  finished  his  examination  of  Badger,  an* 
went  after  his  saddle  bags  for  a  bandage.  "  Went  clear 
through  his  lung,"  was  all  he  said  as  he  passed  us  on  the 
run. 

It  was  purty  chilly  at  that  time  o'  night ;  and  as  the  cold 
began  to  eat  in,  it  suddenly  came  over  Horace  that  no  matter 
how  much  justified  he  was,  he  had  shot  an'  most  likely  killed 
a  feller  human,  an'  he  began  to  shake.  He  went  over  to 
Badger-face  an'  put  his  coat  over  him,  an'  sez :  "  Great 
heavens !  are  ya  goin'  to  let  this  man  lie  out  here  in  the  cold 
till  he  dies?  Ain't  the'  some  place  we  can  put  him?  This 
is  horrible." 

"  Bring  him  in  the  house,"  sez  Kit.  "  He  don't  deserve  it ; 
but  we  can't  let  him  lie  out  here  —  can  we,  Olaf  ?  " 

"  No,"  sez  Olaf.  "  If  you  say  bring  him  in,  in  he 
comes." 


236  FRIAR    TUCK 

"  That 's  right,  that 's  fine.  I  don't  bear  him  any  malice," 
sez  Horace.  "  I  hope  he  gets  over  it  an'  lives  to  repent." 

We  packed  him  into  the  house  an'  Kit  made  a  fire  an' 
heated  some  water.  As  soon  as  the  water  was  hot,  the  Friar 
cleaned  out  the  wound  with  it  an'  some  foamy  stuff  out  of 
a  bottle.  Then  he  dissolved  a  drab  tablet  in  some  water  an' 
tied  up  both  openings.  Horace  sat  in  a  corner  durin'  this 
operation,  with  his  head  in  his  hands,  shiverin'.  The  reaction 
had  set  in ;  an'  all  of  us  knew  what  it  was,  though  I  don't 
suppose  any  of  us  had  had  the  chance  to  give  way  to  it  as 
free  as  Horace  did. 

Badger- face  was  all  cut  an'  scarred  when  we  stripped  him ; 
but  he  looked  as  tough  an'  gnarly  as  an  oak  tree,  an'  the 
Friar  said  he  had  one  chance  in  a  hundred  to  pull  through. 
He  did  n't  speak  to  us  until  after  the  Friar  had  finished  with 
him.  Then  he  said  in  a  low,  snarly  voice :  "  I  don't  much 
expect  to  get  over  this ;  but  before  I  slip  off,  I  wish  you  'd 
tell  me  who  the  little  cuss  who  got  me  really  is,  an'  what 's 
his  game." 

We  did  n't  hardly  know  what  to  say ;  but  finally  Tank  sez : 
"  We  don't  feel  free  to  tell  you  who  he  is,  Badger-face ;  but 
I  '11  say  this  much,  he  ain't  no  officer  of  the  law." 

I  thought  it  would  be  the  quickest  way  to  straighten 
Horace  up,  so  I  told  him  'at  Badger-face  wanted  to  talk  to 
him.  Sure  enough,  Horace  took  a  deep  breath  an'  stiffened 
his  upper  lip.  Then  he  walked  over  to  the  bed.  "  How  do 
ya  feel,  Badger- face  ?  "  sez  he. 

"  Oh,  I  been  shot  before,"  sez  Badger ;  "  but  it  burns 
worse  'n  usual  this  time,  an'  I  reckon  you  Ve  got  me.  It 
grinds  me  all  up  to  think  'at  a  little  runt  like  you  did  it,  an' 
it  would  soothe  me  to  know  'at  you  had  some  sort  of  a 
record." 


NIGHT-PROWLERS  237 

Horace  looked  thoughtful :  he  wanted  to  comfort  the  man 
he  was  responsible  for  havin'  put  out  o'  the  game;  but  he 
could  see  that  the  whole  truth  would  n't  in  no  wise  do,  so  he 
put  on  a  foxy  look  an'  sez :  "  I  never  worked  around  these 
parts  none ;  but  if  you  've  ever  heard  o'  Dinky  Bradford, 
why,  that 's  me.  I  know  just  how  you  feel.  You  feel  as 
much  put  out  at  bein'  bested  by  a  small-like  man,  as  I  would 
at  havin'  a  big  feller  get  ahead  o'  me ;  but  you  need  n't  fret 
yourself.  There 's  fellers  right  in  this  room  who  have  seen 
me  go  four  days  without  food  an'  then  do  a  stunt  which  beat 
anything  they  'd  ever  seen.  Don't  you  worry  none.  Now 
that  you  're  down  an'  out,  we  all  wish  ya  the  best  o'  luck." 

Me  an'  Spider  an'  Tank  had  to  grin  at  this;  but  it  was 
just  what  Badger  needed  to  quiet  him,  an'  his  face  lit  up 
when  he  asked  Horace  how  he  had  managed  to  shoot  him. 

"  I  used  my  auxilary  armyment,"  sez  Horace,  but  that 's 
all  the  explanation  he  'd  make.  I  found  out  afterward  that 
he  had  a  thing  called  a  derringer,  a  two-barreled  pistol,  forty- 
one  caliber,  which  he  carried  in  his  vest  pocket.  I  told  him 
'at  this  sneaky  sort  of  a  weapon  would  give  him  a  bad  name 
if  it  was  found  out  on  him;  but  he  said  'at  he  shot  from 
necessity,  not  choice,  and  that  when  it  came  to  gettin'  shot, 
he  could  n't  see  why  the  victim  should  be  so  blame  particular 
what  was  used  —  which  is  sensible  enough  when  you  come 
to  think  it  over,  though  I  would  n't  pack  one  o'  those  guns, 
myself. 

Badger-face  was  out  of  his  head  next  day,  and  for  two 
weeks  followin'.  The  Friar  an'  Kit  an'  Horace  took  turns 
nursin'  him,  an'  they  did  an  able  job  of  it.  Water,  plain 
water  an'  wind,  was  about  all  the  Friar  used  in  treatin'  him. 
Kit  wanted  to  give  him  soup  an'  other  sorts  o'  funnel  food  ; 
but  the  Friar  said  'at  a  man  could  live  for  weeks  on  what 


238  FRIAR    TUCK 

was  stored  up  in  him ;  an'  Horace  backed  him  up.  Kit  used 
to  shake  her  head  at  this,  an'  I  know  mighty  well  that  down 
deep  in  her  heart,  she  thought  they  would  starve  him  to 
death  before  her  very  eyes. 

We  tore  up  the  old  shack  on  the  hill,  snaked  the  poles  down 
with  Olaf's  work  team,  an'  set  it  up  in  the  Spread;  so  'at 
we  'd  be  handy  in  case  we  was  needed.  A  couple  o'  the 
Cross-branders  drifted  by,  an'  we  gave  'em  the  news  about 
Badger-face  an'  Dinky  Bradford  havin'  come  together  an' 
Badger  havin'  got  some  the  worst  of  it ;  but  they  would  n't 
go  in  to  see  him,  an'  they  quit  wanderin'  by ;  so  'at  we  did  n't 
hardly  know  what  to  expect. 

We  had  hard  work  thawin'  out  the  clay  for  chinkin',  an' 
we  did  n't  get  the  cabin  as  tight  as  we  'd  'a'  liked ;  but  we 
had  plenty  o'  wood,  so  it  did  n't  much  matter  as  far  as 
warmth  was  concerned ;  but  we  had  the  blamedest  time  with 
a  pack-rat  I  ever  did  have. 

I  don't  know  whether  pack-rats  an'  trade-rats  is  the  same 
varmints  or  not ;  but  neither  one  of  'em  has  a  grain  o'  sense, 
though  some  tries  to  stick  up  for  the  trade-rats  on  account 
o'  their  tryin'  to  be  honest.  A  pack-rat  is  about  three  times 
as  big  as  a  barn  rat,  an'  fifteen  times  as  energetic.  His 
main  delight  is  to  move  things.  Horace  said  'at  he  was  con- 
vinced they  were  the  souls  o'  furniture-movers  who  had  died 
without  repentin'  of  all  the  piano-lamps  an'  chiny-ware  they 
had  broke.  A  pack-rat  don't  care  a  peg  whether  he  can 
use  an  article  or  not;  all  he  asks  is  the  privilege  of  totin' 
it  about  somewhere. 

We  were  n't  at  all  sure  'at  we  would  n't  be  routed  out  in 
the  night ;  so  when  we  went  to  sleep,  we  'd  stack  our  boots 
an'  hats  where  we  could  find  'em  easy.  Sometimes  the  pack- 
rat  would  toil  so  industrious  'at  he  'd  wake  us  up  an'  we  'd 


NIGHT-PROWLERS  239 

try  to  hive  him ;  but  most  o'  the  time  he  'd  work  sly,  an' 
then  next  mornin'  we  'd  find  our  boots  all  in  a  heap  on  the 
table,  or  in  the  corner  under  the  .bunk  or  somewhere  clear 
outside  the  shack ;  until  we  was  tempted  to  move  the  shack 
back  where  it  was,  there  not  bein'  any  pack-rats  up  there. 

Then  either  the  pack-rat  reformed  into  a  trade-rat,  or 
else  he  sold  out  his  claim  to  a -trade-rat.  Anyway,  four 
nights  after  we  'd  been  settled,  we  began  to  get  trades  for 
our  stuff. 

Horace  was  sleepin'  this  whole  night  with  us,  an'  next 
mornin'  he  wakened  before  light  an'  started  to  dress  so  as 
to  relieve  the  Friar.  He  had  put  his  boots  on  the  floor  under 
the  head  o'  his  bunk,  an'  when  he  reached  down  for  'em  he 
found  one  potato  an'  the  hide  of  a  rabbit.  The  rabbit  hide 
had  been  tossed  out  two  days  before,  an'  it  had  froze  stiff  an' 
had  a  most  ungainly  feel  at  that  hour  o'  the  mornin'.  Horace 
scrooged  back  into  bed  an'  pulled  all  the  covers  off  Tank 
whom  he  was  sleepin'  with.  When  Tank  awoke,  he  found 
Horace  sittin'  up  in  the  bunk  with  the  covers  wound  around 
him,  yellin'  for  some  one  to  strike  a  light. 

We  all  struck  matches  an'  finally  got  a  candle  lit.  When 
Horace  saw  what  it  was,  he  was  hos-tile  for  true,  thinkin' 
it  was  a  joke  one  o'  the  boys  had  put  up.  We  had  had  a 
hard  time  convincin'  him  o'  the  ways  o'  pack-rats,  an'  now 
when  we  sprung  trade-rats  on  him,  he  thought  we  were 
liars  without  mercy ;  but  when  the  Friar  came  out  to  learn 
what  the  riot  was,  an'  told  Horace  it  was  all  so  about  trade- 
rats,  he  had  to  give  in. 

"  Well,  they  've  got  a  heap  o'  nerve,"  sez  he,  from  the 
center  o'  the  beddin'  which  was  still  wound  around  him,  "  to 
lug  off  a  good  pair  o'  high-heeled  ridin'  boots,  an'  leave 
an  old  potato  an'  the  shuck  of  a  rabbit  in  place  of  'em !  " 


240  FRIAR    TUCK 

After  this  Horace  took  a  tarp  into  Badger's  room  an' 
bedded  himself  down  in  a  corner,  which  was  all  around  the 
most  handy  thing  he  could  do;  but  the  rest  of  us  had  a 
regular  pest  of  a  time  with  that  rat.  We  could  n't  find  out 
where  the  deuce  he  got  in ;  but  he  distributed  our  belongin's 
constant,  an'  generally  brought  us  some  of  Olaf's  grub-stuff 
in  exchange.  We  could  n't  trap  him  nor  bluff  him,  an'  it 
generally  took  a  good  hour  mornin's,  to  round  up  our  wearin' 
apparel. 

One  night  we  kept  the  fire  goin'  an'  changed  watchers 
every  two  hours.  Ol'  Tank  was  on  guard  from  two  to  four, 
an'  he  woke  us  up  by  takin'  a  shot.  We  found  him  on  his 
back  in  the  middle  o'  the  floor,  an'  he  claimed  he  had  been 
settin'  in  a  chair  an'  had  seen  the  rat  walkin'  along  the  lower 
side  o'  the  ridgepole  with  one  o'  Tillte  Dutch's  boots  in  his 
mouth.  Dutch  had  the  spreadin'est  feet  in  the  outfit,  an' 
we  couldn't  believe  'at  a  trade-rat  could  possibly  tote  it, 
hangin'  down  from  the  ridgepole ;  but  Tank  showed  us  a  lot 
o'  scratches  along  the  ridgepole,  an'  a  bruise  on  his  chin 
where  the  boot  had  hit  him  when  the  rat  dropped  it.  The' 
was  also  a  hole  in  the  boot  where  his  bullet  had  gone,  but 
this  didn't  prove  anything.  Still,  Tank  stuck  to  his  story, 
so  we  had  to  apologize  for  accusin'  him  of  lettin'  his  good 
eye  sleep  while  he  kept  watch  with  his  free  one. 

We  stuffed  burlap  into  the  hole  about  the  ridgepole,  an' 
that  night  bein'  Christmas  eve,  we  all  gathered  in  and  held 
festivities.  We  danced  an'  told  tales  an'  sang  until  a  late 
hour.  None  of  us  were  instrument  musicians;  but  we 
clapped  our  hands  an'  patted  with  our  feet,  an'  Kit  took  turns 
dancin'  with  us,  till  it  was  most  like  a  regular  party.  Mex- 
ican Slim  bet  that  he  could  do  a  Spanish  dance  as  long  as 
Horace  could  sing  different  verses  of  his  song ;  but  we  sup- 


NIGHT-PROWLERS  241 

pressed  it  at  the  ninety-first  verse.  Tank  wanted  to  let  him 
finish,  in  the  hope  it  might  kill  the  trade-rat;  but  we 
could  n't  stand  any  more,  ourselves. 

Then  the  Friar  taught  us  a  song  called,  "  We  three  Kings 
of  Orient  are  " ;  an'  we  disbursed  for  the  night.  It  was  a 
gorgeous  night,  an'  me  an'  the  Friar  took  a  little  walk  under 
the  stars.  One  of  'em  rested  just  above  the  glisteny  peak 
up  back  o'  the  rim,  an'  he  sang  soft  an'  low,  the  "  Star  of 
beauty,  star  of  night "  part  o'  this  song.  He  allus  lifted  me 
off  the  earth  when  he  sang  this  way.  Then  he  sez  to  me: 
"  After  all,  Happy,  life  pays  big  dividends,  if  we  just  live 
it  hard  enough  " ;  an'  he  gave  a  little  sigh  an'  went  in  to 
tend  to  Badger-face. 


CHAPTER  TWENTY-FIVE 
THE  TRADE-RAT'S  CHRISTMAS-GIFT 

TRADE-RATS  haven't  as  much  idee  of  real  music  as  coyotes 
have.  Ninety-one  verses  of  that  infernal  cow-song,  sung 
in  Horace's  nose-tenor,  was  enough  to  drive  bed-bugs  out 
of  a  lumber-camp;  but  that  night  the  trade-rat  worked 
harder  than  ever.  We  had  hid  our  stuff  an'  fastened  it  down, 
an'  used  every  sort  of  legitimate  means  to  circumvent  the 
cuss ;  but  he  beat  us  to  it  every  time,  an'  switched  our  stuff 
around  scandalous." 

"  Merry  Christmas !  "  yelled  Spider  Kelley,  holdin'  up  a 
rusty  sardine  can. 

The  trade-rat  had  remembered  us  all  in  some  the  same 
way,  but  we  recalled  what  day  it  was  an'  took  it  in  good 
part ;  until,  all  of  a  sudden,  ol'  Tank  gave  a  whoop,  an'  held 
up  a  brown  buck-skin  bag.  We  crowded  around  an' 
wanted  him  to  open  it  up  an'  see  what  was  inside;  but 
he  said  it  most  probably  belonged  to  Olaf  or  Kit  or 
the  Friar;  so  we  toted  it  into  the  cabin'  an'  asked  the 
one  who  could  identify  it  to  step  out  an'  claim  his 
diamonds. 

Then  we  had  a  surprise  —  not  one  o'  the  bunch  could 
identify  the  bag!  We  stood  around  an'  looked  at  the  bag 
for  as  much  as  five  minutes,  tryin'  to  figure  out  how  the  deuce 
even  a  trade-rat  could  spring  stuff  on  us  none  of  us  had 
ever  seen  before. 

"  This  is  a  real  trade,  sure  enough,"  sez  Horace. 


TRADE-RAT'S     CHRISTMAS-GIFT     243 

"  I  tell  ya  what  this  is,"  sez  I.  "  This  is  a  Christmas-gift 
for  the  Friar.  Go  on  an'  open  it,  Friar." 

The'  was  some  soft,  Injun-tanned  fawn-skin  inside, 
wrappin'  up  a  couple  o'  papers,  an'  two  photographs,  and 
an  old  faded  letter.  "  I  don't  think  we  have  the  right  to 
look  at  these,"  sez  the  Friar. 

"  How  '11  we  ever  find  out  who  they  belong  to,  then  ?  " 
asked  Horace.  "  Look  at  the  letter  anyway." 

It  was  in  a  blank  envelope,  an'  it  began,  "  My  dear  son," 
and  ended,  "  Your  lovin'  mother."  The  letter  was  just  the 
same  as  all  mothers  write  to  their  sons,  I  reckon:  full  of 
heartache,  an'  tenderness,  an'  good  advice,  an'  scoldin';  but 
nothin'  to  identify  nobody  by ;  so  we  said  'at  the  Friar  should 
read  the  papers.  One  of  'em  was  an  honorable  discharge 
from  the  army ;  but  all  the  names  an'  dates  an'  localities  had 
been  crossed  out.  It  was  what  they  call  an  "  Excellent " 
discharge,  which  is  the  best  they  give,  an'  you  could  tell  by 
the  thumb  print  'at  this  part  had  been  read  the  most  by  who- 
ever had  treasured  it. 

The  other  paper  was  simply  a  clippin'  from  a  newspaper. 
It  was  a  column  of  items  tellin'  about  Dovey  wishin'  to  see 
Tan  Shoes  at  the  same  place  next  Sunday,  an'  such  things. 
The  Friar  said  'at  this  was  the  personal  column,  an'  he  sure 
labeled  it ;  'cause  if  a  feller  chose  to  guess  any,  some  o'  those 
items  was  personal  enough  to  make  a  bar-tender  blush ;  but 
they  did  n't  convey  any  news  to  us  as  to  where  the  trade-rat 
had  procured  the  buck-skin  bag. 

The  photographs  were  wrapped  in  tissue  paper  an'  then 
tied  together  with  pink  string,  face  to  each.  The  Friar 
balked  a  little  at  openin'  'em  up;  but  we  deviled  him  into 
it.  The  first  he  opened  was  a  cheap,  faded  little  one  of  an 
old  lady.  She  had  a  sad,  patient  face,  an'  white  hair.  Horace 


244  FRIAR    TUCK 

was  standin'  on  a  chair,  lookin'  over  the  Friar's  shoulder,  an' 
he  piped  out  that  the  photograph  had  been  took  in  New 
York,  an'  asked  if  we  knew  any  one  who  lived  there,  which 
most  of  us  did;  but  not  the  subject  of  the  photograph. 

Then  the  Friar  opened  the  other  one.  He  took  one  look 
at  it,  an'  then  his  face  turned  gray.  "This  one  was  took 
in  Rome,"  sez  Horace.  "  Does  any  one  here  have  a  list  o' 
friends  livin'  in  Rome,  Italy  ?  " 

He  hadn't  looked  at  the  face  on  the  photograph,  nor  at 
the  Friar's  face ;  but  when  we  did  n't  answer,  he  looked  up, 
saw  that  we  had  sobered  in  sympathy  with  the  Friar,  an' 
then  he  looked  at  the  face  on  the  photograph  an'  got  down 
off  the  chair.  The  face  was  of  a  beautiful  lady  in  a  low- 
necked,  short-sleeved  dress.  Not  as  low  nor  as  short  as 
some  dresses  I  've  seen  in  pictures,  but  still  a  purty  generous 
outlook. 

The  Friar's  hands  shook  some;  but  he  gradually  got  a 
grip  on  himself,  an'  purty  soon,  he  sez  in  a  steady  voice: 
"  This  is  a  picture  of  Signorina  Morrissena.  Does  any  one 
here  know  of  her?" 

Well,  of  course  none  of  us  had  ever  heard  of  her ;  so  the 
Friar  wrapped  up  the  package  again  an'  put  it  back  into 
the  buck-skin  bag.  We  had  expected  to  have  some  high 
jinks  that  day,  an'  Kit  had  baked  a  lot  o'  vinegar  pies  for 
dinner,  we  had  plenty  o'  fresh  deer-meat,  an'  we  had  agreed 
to  let  the  Friar  hold  a  regular  preachin'  first ;  but  when  we 
saw  how  the  picture  had  shook  him  up  we  drifted  back  to 
our  own  shack  an'  sat  talkin'  about  where  the  deuce  that 
blame  trade-rat  could  possibly  have  got  a  holt  o'  the  buck- 
skin bag.  I  was  purty  sure  that  it  was  a  picture  o'  the  Friar's 
girl,  the  extra  trimmin's  on  the  name  not  bein'  much  in  the 
way  of  a  disguise,  an'  as  soon  as  I  got  a  chance  to  see  Horace 


TRADE-RAT'S     CHRISTMAS-GIFT     245 

I  questioned  him,  an'  he  said  it  was  the  girl,  all  right;  but 
that  she  had  developed  a  lot. 

The  Friar  had  taken  a  hoss  an'  gone  up  into  the  mountains, 
an'  had  left  word  that  he  did  n't  want  any  dinner.  We  were 
as  full  o'  sympathy  with  him  as  we  could  stand,  but  not  in 
the  mood  to  sidestep  such  a  meal  as  Kit  had  framed  up ;  so 
we  ate  till  after  three  in  the  afternoon.  We  did  n't  want  to 
do  anything  to  fret  him  a  speck;  so  we  hardly  knew 
what  to  do.  Generally  it  tickled  him  to  have  us  ask  him  to 
preach  to  us ;  but  we  could  n't  tell  how  he  'd  feel  about  it 
now,  and  we  were  still  discussin'  it  about  the  fire  when  the 
Friar  came  back. 

He  looked  mighty  weary,  an'  we  knew  he  had  been  drivin' 
himself  purty  hard,  although  it  was  n't  just  tiredness  which 
showed  in  his  face.  Still,  the'  was  a  sort  of  peace  there, 
too;  so  after  he'd  warmed  himself  a  while,  ol'  Tank 
asked  him  if  he  would  n't  like  to  preach  to  us  a  bit. 

The  Friar  once  said  that  back  East  some  folks  used  good 
manners  as  clothin'  for  their  souls,  but  that  out  our  way 
good-heartedness  was  the  clothin',  an'  good  manners  nothin' 
more  than  a  silver  band  around  the  hat.  "  And  some  o'  the 
bands  are  mighty  narrow,  Friar,"  I  added  to  draw  him  out. 
"  Yes,"  sez  he,  "  but  the  hats  are  mighty  broad." 

You  just  could  n't  floor  the  Friar  in  a  case  like  this.  He 
knew  'at  the  politeness  an'  the  good-heartedness  in  Tank's 
request  was  divided  off  about  the  same  as  the  band  an'  the 
hat ;  and  that  all  we  wanted  was  to  ease  off  the  Friar's  mind 
an'  let  him  feel  contented;  so  he  heaved  a  sigh  and  shook 
his  head  at  Tank. 

When  a  blacksmith  goes  out  into  company,  folks  don't 
pester  him  with  questions  as  to  why  tempered  steel  was  n't 
stored  up  in  handy  caves,  instead  of  havin'  nothin'  but  rough 


246  FRIAR    TUCK 

ore  hid  away  in  the  cellar  of  a  mountain ;  and  a  carpenter 
is  not  held  responsible  because  a  sharp  saw  cuts  better  'n  a 
dull  one ;  but  it  seems  about  next  to  impossible  for  a  human 
bein'  to  pass  up  a  parson  without  insultin'  him  a  little  about 
the  ways  o'  Providence,  and  askin'  him  a  lot  o'  questions 
which  would  moult  feathers  out  o'  the  ruggedest  angel  in  the 
bunch. 

We  could  all  see  'at  the  Friar  had  been  havin'  a  rough 
day  of  it ;  so  Tank  began  by  askin'  him  questions  simply  to 
toll  him  away  from  himself ;  but  soon  he  was  shootin'  ques- 
tions into  the  Friar  as  rough  shod  as  though  they  was  both 
strangers  to  each  other. 

"  You  say  it  was  sheep-herders  what  saw  the  angels  that 
night  the  Lord  was  born,"  sez  Tank.  "  How  come  the' 
was  n't  any  cow-punchers  saw  'em  ?  "  Tank  had  about  the 
deep-rootedest  prejudice  again'  sheep-herders  I  ever  saw. 

"  The'  was  n't  any  cow-punchers  in  that  land,"  sez  the 
Friar.  "  It  was  a  hilly  land  an'  —  " 

"  Well  I  'd  like  to  know,"  broke  in  ol'  Tank,  "  why  the 
Lord  picked  out  such  a  place  as  that,  when  he  had  the  whole 
world  to  choose  from." 

O'  course  the  Friar  tried  his  best  to  smooth  this  out ;  but 
by  the  time  he  was  through,  Tank  had  got  tangled  up  with 
another  perdicament.  "  Then,  there  was  ol'  Faro's  dream," 
he  said,  "  the  one  about  the  seven  lean  cows  eatin'  the  seven 
fat  ones.  I  've  punched  cows  all  my  life,  and  I  saw  'em  so 
thin  once,  when  the  snow  got  crusted  an'  the  chinook  got 
switched  off  for  a  month,  that  the  spikes  on  their  backbones 
punched  holes  through  their  hides;  but  they'd  as  soon 
thought  o'  flyin'  up  an'  grazin'  on  clouds,  as  to  turn  in  an' 
eat  one  another." 

By  the  time  the  Friar  had  got  through  explainin'  the  dif- 


TRADE-RAT'S    CHRISTMAS-GIFT     247 

ference  between  dreams  and  written  history,  Tank  was  ready 
with  another  query.  "  I  heard  tell  once  'at  the  Bible  sez,  '  If 
thy  eye  offends  thee,  pluck  it  out.'  Does  the  Bible  say  this  ?  " 

"  Well,  it  does,"  admitted  the  Friar ;  "  but  you  see  —  " 

"  Well,  my  free  eye  offends  me,"  broke  in  Tank.  "  It 
never  did  offend  me  until  Spike  Groogan  tried  to  pluck  it 
out,  and  it  don't  offend  me  now  as  much  as  it  does  other 
folks.  Still,  I  got  to  own  up  'at  the  blame  thing  does  offend 
me  whenever  I  meet  up  with  strangers,  'cause  it  allus  runs 
wilder  in  front  of  a  stranger  'n  at  airy  other  time.  Now, 
what  I  want  to  know  is,  why  an'  when  an'  how  must  I  pluck 
out  that  eye  —  specially,  when  it  sez  in  another  place  that 
if  a  man's  eye  is  single  his  whole  body  is  full  o'  light.  My 
eye  is  single  enough  to  suit  any  one.  Fact  is,  it 's  so  blame 
single  that  some  folks  call  it  singular ;  but  the'  ain't  no  more 
light  in  my  body  'n  there  is  in  airy  other  man's." 

You  could  n't  work  off  any  spiritual  interpretation  stuff 
on  Tank.  He  thought  an  allegory  was  the  varmint  which 
lives  in  the  Florida  swamps.  Well,  as  far  as  that  goes, 
I  did,  too,  until  the  Friar  pointed  out  that  it  was  merely  a 
falsehood  used  to  explain  the  truth ;  but  Tank,  he  did  n't 
join  in  with  any  new-fangled  notions,  an'  a  feller  had  to 
talk  to  him  as  straight  out  as  though  talkin'  to  a  hoss.  The' 
was  lots  of  times  I  did  n't  envy  the  Friar  his  job. 

But  after  he  had  satisfied  Tank  that  it  was  n't  required  of 
him  to  discard  either  of  his  lamps,  especially  the  free  one,  he 
drifted  off  into  tellin'  us  how  he  had  spent  the  day  — and 
then  I  envied  him  a  little,  for  he  certainly  did  have  the  gift 
o'  wranglin'  words. 

He  told  about  havin'  rode  up  the  mountain  as  far  as  he 
could  go,  and  then  climbin'  as  far  as  he  could  on  foot.  He 
showed  how  hard  it  was  to  tell  either  a  man  or  a  mountain 


248  FRIAR    TUCK 

by  the  lines  in  their  faces,  and  he  went  on  with  this  till  he 
made  a  mountain  almost  human.  Then  he  switched  around 
and  showed  how  much  a  mountain  was  like  life,  ambition 
bein'  like  pickin'  out  the  mountain,  the  easy  little  foothills 
bein'  the  start,  the  summit  allus  hid  while  a  feller  was 
climbin',  and  each  little  plateau  urgin'  him  to  give  up  there 
and  rest.  He  compared  life  and  a  mountain,  until  it  seemed 
that  all  a  feller  needed  for  a  full  edication,  was  just  to  have 
a  mountain  handy.  Then  he  wound  up  by  sayin'  that  he 
had  n't  been  able  to  reach  the  peak.  He  had  sat  in  a  shel- 
tered nook  for  a  time,  gazin'  up  at  the  face  of  a  cliff  with  an 
overhangin'  bank  o'  snow  on  top,  the  wind  swirlin'  masses 
o'  snow  down  about  him,  and  everything  tryin'  to  point 
out  that  he  had  been  a  failure,  and  might  as  well  give  up  in 
disgust.  He  stopped  here,  and  we  were  all  silent,  for,  as  was 
usual  with  him,  he  had  led  us  along  to  where  we  could  see 
life  through  his  eyes  for  a  space. 

"  After  a  time,"  sez  the  Friar  as  soon  as  he  saw  we  were 
in  the  right  mood,  "  I  caught  my  breath  again  and  followed 
the  narrow  ledge  I  was  on  around  to  where  I  could  see  the 
highest  peak  stand  out  clear  and  solitary ;  and  from  my  side 
of  it,  it  was  n't  possible  for  any  man  to  reach  it.  There  was 
no  wind  here,  the  air  was  as  sweet  and  pure  as  at  the  dawn 
o'  creation,  and  everywhere  I  looked  I  met  glory  heaped  on 
glory.  A  gray  cloud  rested  again'  the  far  side  o'  the  peak, 
and  back  o'  this  was  the  sun.  Ah,  there  was  a  silver  and  a 
golden  linin'  both  to  this  cloud;  and  all  of  a  sudden  I  was 
comforted. 

"  I  had  done  all  I  could  do,  and  this  was  my  highest  peak. 
Whatever  was  the  highest  peak  for  others,  this  was  the 
highest  peak  for  me;  and  there  was  no  more  bitterness  or 
envy  or  doubt  or  fear  in  my  heart.  I  stood  for  a  long  time 


TRADE- RAT'S     CHRISTMAS-GIFT     249 

lookin'  up  at  the  gray  cloud  with  its  dazzling  edges,  and  some 
very  beautiful  lines  crept  into  my  memory  —  '  The  paths 
which  are  trod,  by  only  the  evenin'  and  mornin',  and  the 
feet  of  the  angels  of  God.'  " 

The  Friar  had  let  himself  out  a  little  at  the  end,  and  his 
eyes  were  shinin'  when  he  finished.  "  I  guess  I  have  given 
you  a  sermon,  after  all,  boys,"  he  said,  "  and  I  hope  you  can 
use  it  to  as  good  advantage  as  I  did  when  it  came  to  me  up 
on  the  mountain.  We  all  have  thoughts  we  can't  put  into 
words,  and  so  I  've  failed  to  give  you  all  'at  was  given  me ; 
but  it 's  some  comfort  to  know  that,  be  they  big  or  be  they 
little,  we  don't  have  to  climb  any  mountains  but  our  own, 
and  whether  we  reach  the  top  or  whether  we  come  to  a  blind 
wall  first,  the  main  thing  is  to  climb  with  all  our  might  and 
with  a  certain  faith  that  those  who  have  earned  rest  shall  find 
it,  after  the  sun  has  set." 

This  was  one  of  the  days  when  the  magic  of  the  Friar's 
voice  did  strange  things  to  a  feller's  insides.  We  knew  'at 
he  was  talkin'  in  parables,  an'  talkin'  mostly  to  himself;  but 
each  one  of  us  knew  our  own  little  mountains,  an'  it  was 
darn  comfortin'  to  understand  that  the  Friar  could  have  as 
tough  a  time  on  his  as  we  had  on  ours. 

We  all  sat  silent,  each  feller  thinkin'  over  his  own  prob- 
lems; and  after  a  time,  the  Friar  sang  the  one  beginnin', 
"  O  little  town  of  Bethlehem !  "  It  was  dark  by  this  time, 
but  the  firelight  fell  on  his  face,  an'  made  it  so  soft-like  an' 
tender  that  ol'  Tank  Williams  sniffled  audible  once,  an'  when 
the  song  was  finished  he  piled  a  lot  more  wood  on  the  fire, 
an'  pertended  'at  he  was  catchin'  cold.  When  Kit  called  us 
in  to  supper,  we  all  sat  still  for  a  full  minute,  before  we 
could  get  back  to  our  appetites  again. 


CHAPTER  TWENTY-SIX 

A   CONTESTED   LIFE-TITLE 

THE  bullet  which  had  gone  through  Badger-face  had  n't 
touched  a  single  bone.  It  had  gone  through  his  left  lung 
purty  high  up,  but  somethin'  like  the  pneumonic  set  in,  an' 
he  was  a  sorry  lookin'  sight  when  the  fever  started  to  die 
out  after  havin'  hung  on  for  two  weeks.  He  had  been 
drinkin'  consid'able  beforehand,  which  made  it  bad  for  him, 
an'  the  Friar  said  it  was  all  a  question  of  reserve.  If  Badger- 
face  had  enough  of  his  constitution  left  to  tide  him  over,  he 
stood  a  good  chance ;  but  otherwise  it  was  his  turn. 

He  did  n't  have  much  blood  left  in  him  at  the  end  of  two 
weeks  on  air  and  water,  and  he  did  n't  have  enough  fat  to 
pillow  his  bones  on.  We  all  thought  'at  he  ought  to  have 
something  in  the  way  o'  feed ;  but  the  Friar  would  n't  stand 
for  one  single  thing  except  water.  He  said  'at  food  had 
killed  a  heap  more  wounded  men  'n  bullets  ever  had ;  so 
we  let  him  engineer  it  through  in  his  own  way. 

When  the  fever  started  to  leave,  he  got  so  weak  'at  Horace 
thought  he  was  goin'  to  flicker  out,  an'  he  felt  purty  bad 
about  it.  He  did  n't  regret  havin'  done  it,  an'  said  he  would 
do  just  the  same  if  he  had  it  to  do  over ;  but  it  calls  up  some 
mighty  serious  thoughts  when  a  fellow  reflects  that  he  is 
the  one  who  has  pushed  another  off  into  the  dark.  On  the 
night  when  it  seemed  certain  that  Badger-face  would  lose 
his  grip,  we  all  went  into  his  room  an'  sat  around  waitin' 
for  the  end,  to  sort  o'  cheer  him  up  a  little.  Life  itself 


A   CONTESTED   LIFE-TITLE        251 

is  a  strange  enough  adventure,  but  death  has  it  beat  a 
mile. 

Along  about  nine  o'clock,  Badger  said  in  a  low,  trembly 
voice :  "  What  'd  you  fellers  do  to  me,  if  I  got  well?  " 

He  did  n't  even  open  his  eyes ;  so  we  did  n't  pay  any  heed 
to  him.  When  he  first  got  out  of  his  head,  he  had  rambled 
consid'able.  Part  o'  the  time  he  seemed  to  be  excusin'  himself 
for  what  he  had  done,  an'  part  o'  the  time  he  seemed  to  be 
gloatin'  over  his  devilment ;  but  the'  was  n't  any  thread  to 
his  discourse  so  we  did  n't  set  much  store  by  it.  After 
waitin'  a  few  minutes,  he  quavered  out  his  question  again, 
an'  the  Friar  told  him  not  to  worry  about  anything,  but  just 
to  set  his  mind  on  gettin'  well. 

Badger  shook  his  head  feebly  from  side  to  side  an'  mumbled, 
"  That  don't  go,  that  don't  go  with  me."  He  paused  here 
for  a  rest,  an'  then  went  on.  "  I  've  been  in  my  right  mind 
all  day,  an'  I  Ve  been  thinkin'  a  lot,  an'  tryin'  some  experi- 
ments. I  can  breathe  in  a  certain  way  which  makes  me  easier 
an'  stronger,  an'  I  can  breathe  in  another  way  which  shuts 
off  my  heart.  I  don't  intend  to  get  well  merely  for  the 
pleasure  o'  gettin'  lynched ;  so  if  that 's  your  game,  I  intend 
to  shut  off  my  heart  an'  quit  before  I  get  back  the  flavor  o' 
life.  It  don't  make  two-bits  difference  with  me  either  way. 
What  d'  ya  intend  to  do  ?  " 

He  had  been  a  long  time  sayin'  this,  an'  we  had  exchanged 
glances  purty  promiscuous.  We  hadn't  give  a  thought  as 
to  what  we  would  do  with  him,  providin'  he  responded  to 
our  efforts  to  save  his  life ;  but  it  was  purty  generally  under- 
stood that  Badger  had  fitted  himself  to  be  strung  up,  just  the 
same  as  if  he  had  n't  been  shot  at  all.  Now,  though,  when 
we  came  to  consider  it,  this  hardly  seemed  a  square  deal. 
There  was  n't  much  common  sense  in  chokin'  a  man's  life 


252  FRIAR    TUCK 

down  his  throat  for  two  weeks,  only  to  jerk  it  out  again  at 
the  end  of  a  rope,  an'  we  found  ourselves  in  somethin'  of  a 
complication. 

"  What  do  ya  think  we  ort  to  do  to  ya  ?  "  asked  Tank. 

"  Lynch  me,"  sez  Badger,  without  openin'  his  eyes ;  "  but 
I  don't  intend  to  wait  for  it.  I  don't  blame  ya  none,  fellers. 
I  did  ya  all  the  dirt  I  could;  but  I  don't  intend  to  furnish 
ya  with  no  circus  performance  —  I  'm  goin'  on." 

He  began  to  breathe  different,  an'  his  face  began  to  get 
purplish  an'  ghastly.  "  Can  he  kill  himself  that  way  ?  " 
I  asked  the  Friar. 

"  I  don't  know,"  sez  the  Friar.  "  I  think  'at  when  he  loses 
consciousness,  nature  '11  take  holt,  an'  make  him  breathe  the 
most  comfortable  way  —  but  I  don't  know." 

"  Let  Olaf  take  a  look  at  his  flame,"  sez  Horace ;  so  Olaf 
looked  at  Badger  a  long  time. 

Olaf  hadn't  wasted  much  of  his  time  on  Badger.  He 
was  n't  long  on  forgiveness,  Olaf  was  n't ;  an'  ever  since  the 
time  'at  Badger  had  been  so  enthusiastic  in  tryin'  to  have 
him  lynched  for  killin'  Bud  Fisher,  Olaf  had  give  it  out  as 
his  opinion  that  Badger  was  doomed  for  hell,  an'  he  was  n't 
disposed  to  take  any  hand  in  postponin'  his  departure.  Olaf 
was  the  matter-o'-factest  feller  I  ever  knew.  The'  don't 
seem  to  be  much  harm  in  most  of  our  cussin',  but  when 
Olaf  indulged  in  profanity,  he  was  solemn  an*  earnest,  the 
same  as  if  he  was  sayin'  a  prayer  backwards. 

"  It  don't  look  like  Badger's  flame,"  sez  he  after  a  time. 
"  It 's  gettin'  mighty  weak  an'  blue,  an'  the's  a  thick  spot  over 
his  heart  which  shows  plainer  'n  the  one  over  his  wound." 

"  I  move  we  give  him  a  fresh  start,"  sez  Horace. 

"  He  'd  ort  to  be  lynched,"  sez  Tank.  "  I  don't  see  why 
we  can't  try  him  out  now,  an'  if  we  find  him  guilty,  why  he 


A   CONTESTED   LIFE-TITLE        253 

can  kill  himself  if  he  wants  to,  or  else  get  well  again  an' 
we  '11  do  it  for  him." 

Neither  what  Horace  said  nor  what  Tank  said  called  out 
much  response.  We  knew  the'  was  n't  any  one  could  say  a 
good  word  for  Badger-face  an'  so  he  well  deserved  his 
stretchin' ;  but  on  the  other  hand,  there  he  was  turnin'  gray 
before  our  eyes,  an'  it  went  again'  our  nature  to  discard  him, 
after  havin'  hung  on  to  him  for  two  weeks.  The  Friar  left 
the  side  of  the  bed  an'  retired  into  a  corner,  leavin'  us  free 
to  express  ourselves. 

"  I  don't  see  how  we  can  let  him  go  free,"  sez  Tank.  "  He 
sez  himself  'at  he  ort  to  be  lynched ;  an'  when  a  feller  can't 
speak  a  good  word  for  himself,  I  don't  see  who  can." 

"  Badger-face,"  sez  Horace,  "  you  're  the  darnedest  bother 
of  a  man  I  ever  saw.  First  you  infest  us  until  we  have  to 
shoot  a  hole  through  you,  an'  then  we  have  to  nurse  you  for 
two  weeks,  an'  now  you  're  diggin'  your  heels  into  our  con- 
sciences. I  give  you  my  word  we  won't  lynch  you  if  you 
get  well.  We  '11  turn  you  over  to  the  law." 

Badger's  thin  lips  fell  back  over  his  yellow  teeth  in  the 
ghastliest  grin  a  live  man  ever  hung  out.  "  The  law,"  sez 
he  with  bitter  sarcasm,  "  the  law !  Have  you  ever  been  in  a 
penitentiary  ?  " 

"  No,"  sez  Horace,  "  I  have  not." 

"  Well,  I  have,"  sez  Badger.  "  I  was  put  in  for  another 
feller's  deed ;  an'  they  gave  me  the  solitary,  the  jacket,  the 
bull-rings,  the  water-cure,  and  if  you  '11  roll  me  over  after 
I  'm  dead,  you  can  still  see  the  scars  of  the  whip  on  my  back. 
I  Ve  tried  the  law,  an'  I  '11  see  you  all  damned  before  I  try 
it  again." 

Badger-face  was  as  game  as  they  generally  get.  As  soon 
as  he  stopped  talkin'  he  began  to  breathe  against  his  heart 


254  FRIAR    TUCK 

again.  Horace  stood  lookin'  at  him  for  a  full  minute,  an' 
then  he  lost  his  temper. 

"  You  're  a  coward,  that 's  what  you  are !  "  sez  Horace. 
"  I  said  all  along  'at  you  were  a  coward,  an'  another  feller 
said  so  too,  an'  now  you  're  provin'  it.  You  can  sneak  an' 
kill  cows  an'  cut  saddles  in  the  dark,  but  you  haven't  the 
nerve  to  face  things  in  the  open.  Now,  you  're  sneakin'  off 
into  the  darkness  o'  death  because  you  're  afraid  to  face  the 
light  of  life." 

This  was  handin'  it  to  him  purty  undiluted,  an'  Badger 
opened  his  eyes  an'  looked  at  Horace.  His  eyes  were  heavy 
an'  dull,  but  they  did  n't  waver  any.  "  Dinky,"  sez  Badger- 
face,  "  the  only  thing  I  got  again'  you  is  your  size.  I  've 
been  called  a  lot  o'  different  things  in  my  time ;  but  you  're 
the  first  gazabo  'at  ever  called  me  a  coward  —  an'  you  're 
about  the  only  one  who  has  a  right  to,  'cause  you  put  me  out 
fair  an'  square.  I  wish  you  had  traveled  my  path  alongside 
o'  me,  though.  You  ain't  no  milksop,  but  after  you  'd  been 
given  a  few  o'  the  deals  I  've  had,  you  'd  take  to  the  dark  too. 
You  can  call  me  a  coward  if  you  want  to,  or,  after  I  'm  gone, 
you  can  think  of  me  as  just  bein'  dog  tired  an'  glad  o'  the 
chance  to  crawl  off  into  the  dark  to  sleep.  I  don't  want  to  be 
on  your  conscience;  that 's  not  my  game.  All  I  want  is  just 
to  get  shut  o'  the  whole  blame  business." 

He  talked  broken  an'  quavery,  an'  it  took  him  a  long 
time  to  finish;  but  when  he  did  quit,  he  turned  on  his  bad 
breathin'  again.  Horace  had  flushed  up  some  when  Badger 
had  mentioned  milksop ;  but  when  he  had  finished,  Horace 
took  his  wasted  hand  in  a  hearty  grip,  an'  sez :  "  I  take  it 
back,  Badger.  You  ain't  no  coward.  I  only  wanted  to 
taunt  you  into  stickin'  for  another  round ;  but  I  think  mighty 
well  o'  ya.  Will  you  agree  to  cut  loose  from  the  Ty  Jones 


A   CONTESTED    LIFE-TITLE        255 

crowd  an'  try  to  be  a  man,  if  we  give  you  your  freedom,  a 
new  outfit,  and  enough  money  to  carry  you  out  of  the 
country  ?  " 

It  was  some  time  before  Badger  spoke,  an'  then  he  said: 
"  Nope,  I  can't  do  it.  Ty  knows  my  record,  an'  he  's  treated 
me  white ;  but  if  I  quit  him,  he  '11  get  me  when  I  least 
expect  it.  Now  understand,  Dinky,  that  I  don't  hold  a  thing 
again'  you,  you  're  the  squarest  feller  I  've  ever  met  up  with ; 
but  I  'm  not  comin'  back  to  life  again.  From  where  I  am 
now,  I  can  see  it  purty  plain,  an'  it  ain't  worth  the  trouble." 

"  You  could  write  back  to  Ty  that  you  made  your  escape 
from  us,"  sez  Horace. 

"  That 's  the  best  idee  you  've  put  over,"  sez  Badger,  after 
he  'd  thought  it  out ;  "  but  I  have  n't  enough  taste  for  life 
to  make  the  experiment.  Don't  fuss  about  me  any  more. 
I  don't  suffer  a  mite.  I  feel  just  like  a  feller  in  the  Injun 
country,  goin'  to  sleep  on  post  after  days  in  the  saddle.  He 
knows  it  '11  mean  death,  but  he 's  too  tired  out  to  care  a 
white  bean." 

"  Have  you  ever  been  in  the  army  ?  "  asked  the  Friar  from 
his  place  in  the  corner.  We  all  gave  a  little  start  at  the 
sound  of  his  voice,  for  it  came  with  a  snap  an'  unexpected. 

Badger's  lips  dropped  back  for  another  hideous  grin. 
"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  I  Ve  been  in  both  the  penitentiary  and  the 
army  —  and  they  're  a  likely  pair." 

"  Did  you  have  a  buck-skin  bag?  "  asked  the  Friar,  comin' 
up  to  the  bed. 

Badger-face  tried  to  raise  himself  on  his  elbow,  but  he 
could  n't  quite  make  it.  "  Yes,  I  did,"  sez  he,  droppin'  back 
again.  "  What  became  of  it  ?  " 

"  I  am  keepin'  it  for  ya,"  sez  the  Friar.  "  Do  you  wish 
to  leave  any  word  in  case  you  do  not  recover  ?  " 


256  FRIAR    TUCK 

"  No,"  sez  Badger,  "  the'  ain't  no  one  to  leave  word  to. 
That  letter  was  from  my  mother,  an'  that  was  her  picture. 
She  's  been  dead  a  long  string  o'  years  now." 

"  There  was  another  picture  an'  a  newspaper  clippin'," 
sez  the  Friar. 

Badger-face  did  n't  give  no  heed ;  an'  after  a  time  the 
Friar  sez :  "  What  shall  I  do  with  them  ?  " 

"  Throw  'em  away,"  sez  Badger-face.  "  They  don't  con- 
cern me  none.  I  was  more  took  with  that  woman's  picture  'n 
airy  other  I  ever  saw.  That  was  all." 

"  Where  did  you  get  it  ?  "  asked  the  Friar. 

"  I  got  it  from  a  young  Dutchy,"  sez  Badger  wearily.  "  He 
killed  a  feller  over  at  Leadville  an'  came  out  here  an'  took 
on  with  Ty  Jones.  He  said  she  was  an  opery  singer,  an' 
got  drugged  at  a  hotel  where  he  was  workin'." 

Badger-face  was  gettin'  purty  weak  by  now,  an'  he  stopped 
with  a  sort  of  sigh.  The  Friar  took  holt  of  his  hand.  "  I 
am  very  much  interested  in  this  woman,"  he  said,  lookin' 
into  Badger's  face  as  if  tryin'  to  give  him  life  enough  to  go 
on  with.  "  Can  you  tell  me  anything  else  about  her?  " 

"  Not  much,"  sez  Badger-face.  "  She  was  singin'  at  what 
he  called  the  Winter  Garden  at  Berlin,  Germany.  Some 
Austrian  nobility  got  mashed  on  her  an'  drugged  her  at  the 
hotel.  Dutchy  was  mashed  on  her,  too,  I  reckon.  They 
had  advertised  for  him  in  a  New  York  paper,  an'  when  he 
got  shot,  over  at  Little  Monte's  dance  hall,  he  asked  me  to 
write  about  it.  His  mother  had  died  leavin'  property,  an' 
all  they  wanted  was  to  round  up  the  heirs.  I  reckon  they 
were  glad  enough  to  have  Dutchy  scratched  from  the  list. 
I  don't  know  why  I  did  keep  that  clippin'." 

"  Have  you  any  idee  how  long  ago  it  was  'at  the  woman 
was  drugged  ?  "  asked  the  Friar. 


A    CONTESTED   LIFE-TITLE        257 

"  I  have  n't  any  idee,"  sez  Badger-face  weakly.  "  Carl 
was  killed  four  years  ago  this  Christmas  eve;  so  it  had  to 
be  before  that." 

"  Listen  to  me,  Badger-face,"  sez  the  Friar,  grippin'  his 
hand  tight.  "  I  want  you  to  get  well.  I  know  that  all  these 
men  will  stand  by  you  and  help  you  to  start  a  new 
life." 

"  How  long  is  it  since  I  've  been  laid  up  ?  "  asked  Badger. 

"  Two  weeks,"  sez  the  Friar.  "  This  is  two  days  after 
Christmas." 

"  Who  tended  to  me  ?  "  asked  Badger. 

"  We  all  did,"  sez  the  Friar,  "  and  we  all  stand  ready  to 
help  you  make  a  new  start." 

"  I  had  a  good  enough  start,"  sez  Badger ;  "  but  I  fooled 
it  away,  an'  I  'm  too  old  now  to  make  a  new  one." 

"  Is  there  any  word  you  want  sent  to  your  friends  at  Ty 
Jones's  ?  "  asked  the  Friar. 

Once  more  Badger  skinned  his  face  into  the  grin. 
"  Friends  ?  "  sez  he.  "  When  you  trap  a  wolf,  does  he  send 
any  word  to  his  friends  ?  I  have  n't  got  no  friends." 

"  Swallow  this  milk,"  sez  Horace  holdin'  some  of  it  out 
to  him  in  a  big  spoon.  Kit  had  made  Olaf  start  to  milkin' 
a  cow,  'cause  she  wanted  to  use  milk  in  cookin',  and  intended 
to  make  butter  when  she  had  the  cream  saved  up.  Badger 
put  the  milk  in  his  mouth,  an'  then  spit  it  out  again. 

"  Don't  you  put  anything  else  in  my  mouth,"  he  sez.  "  I 
told  you  I  was  goin'  to  die ;  an'  by  blank,  I  am  goin'  to  die." 

"  Fellers,"  sez  Horace,  turnin'  to  us,  "  do  you  think  this 
man  is  goin'  to  die  ?  "  We  all  nodded  our  heads.  "  Then, 
will  you  give  his  life  to  me,  to  do  with  as  I  will?"  asked 
Horace ;  and  we  nodded  our  heads  again. 

Horace  took  off  his  coat,  an'  rolled  up  his  sleeves,  an' 


258  FRIAR    TUCK 

then  he  came  over  an'  shook  Badger-face  by  the  shoulder. 
"  Listen  to  me,"  he  sez.  "  I  fought  ya  once  before,  for  your 
life,  and  I  'm  goin'  to  fight  you  for  it  now.  Do  you  hear 
what  I  say  —  I  'm  goin'  to  fight  you  for  your  own  life. 
I  'm  goin'  to  make  you  swallow  milk,  if  I  have  to  tie  you 
an'  pour  it  in  through  a  funnel.  You  can't  hold  your  breath 
an'  fight,  an'  I  'm  goin'  to  fight  you." 

Badger-face  opened  his  eyes  an'  looked  up  into  Horace's 
face.  He  looked  a  long  time,  an'  the  ghost  of  a  smile  crept 
into  his  face.  "  Well,  you  're  the  doggonedest  little  cuss  I 
ever  saw !  "  he  exclaimed.  He  waited  a  long  time,  an'  then 
set  his  teeth.  "  You  beat  me  once,"  he  muttered.  "  Now, 
see  if  you  can  beat  me  again." 

It  was  after  midnight ;  so  when  Horace  dropped  the  hint 
that  he  wouldn't  need  any  help  except  from  me  an'  the 
Friar,  the  rest  o'  the  boys  dug  out  for  the  bunk  shack. 
Then  Horace  took  us  over  to  the  fireplace  an'  asked  us  what 
was  the  best  thing  to  do. 

"  I  do  believe  'at  you  have  stumbled  on  the  right  plan  to 
save  him,"  sez  the  Friar.  "  He  has  no  fever,  the  wound  is 
doin'  splendid,  and  he  has  a  powerful  constitution.  The 
trouble  is  that  he  does  not  will  to  live.  We  must  spur  on  his 
will,  and  if  we  can  make  him  fight  back,  this  '11  help.  Also 
we  must  control  him  as  much  as  possible  through  suggestion. 
Have  you  any  plan  o'  your  own?" 

"  No,"  sez  Horace  candidly.  Horace  did  n't  need  any- 
thing for  any  emergency  except  his  own  nerve.  "  I  am 
determined  that  he  must  live,  but  I  have  no  plan." 

"  The  first  thing  is  to  give  him  a  little  warm  milk,"  sez 
the  Friar. 

"All  right,"  sez  Horace.  "You  tell  me  what  to  do  — 
by  signs,  as  much  as  possible  —  but  let  me  give  the  orders 


A    CONTESTED    LIFE-TITLE        259 

to  Badger-face.  My  size  has  made  an  impression  on  him, 
and  we  can't  afford  to  lose  a  single  trick."  The  Friar 
agreed  to  this  an'  we  went  back  to  the  bunk. 

"  Badger-face,"  sez  Horace,  "  I  'd  rather  give  you  this 
milk  peaceful ;  but  I  'm  goin'  to  give  it  to  ya,  an'  you  can 
bet  what  ya  like  on  that." 

Badger  opened  his  eyes  again,  an'  they  were  dull  an' 
glazy.  "  This  reminds  me  o'  the  water-cure  at  the  pen,"  he 
said,  an'  then  set  his  teeth. 

"  Hold  his  hands,  Happy,"  sez  Horace,  as  full  o'  fight  as 
a  snow-plow.  "  Hold  his  head,  Friar.  Now  then,  swallow 
or  drown." 

It  looked  purty  inhuman,  but  Badger  had  to  swallow  after 
a  bit,  an'  when  we  had  put  as  much  milk  into  him  as  we 
wanted  —  only  a  couple  o'  spoonfuls  —  we  let  him  go,  an' 
he  fell  asleep,  pantin'  a  little.  We  woke  him  up  in  half  an 
hour,  an'  put  some  more  milk  into  him.  When  he  slept,  his 
breathin'  was  more  like  natural,  an'  the  fourth  time,  I 
did  n't  have  to  hold  his  hands ;  so  I  went  to  sleep 
myself. 

Well,  Horace  won  this  fight,  too.  In  about  four  days, 
Badger-face  began  to  have  an  appetite,  an'  then  it  was  all 
off  with  him.  He  couldn't  have  died  if  we'd  left  him 
plumb  alone ;  but  he  had  n't  give  up  yet.  The  Friar  kept 
him  down  to  a  mighty  infan-tile  diet,  sayin'  that  a  lung  shot 
was  a  bad  one,  an'  the  pure  mountain  air  was  all  that  had 
saved  him;  but  even  now  fever  was  likely  to  come  back 
on  him. 

It  was  close  to  the  tenth  o'  January  when  Horace  came 
in  from  a  ride  one  evenin',  an'  went  in  to  see  Badger-face, 
still  wearin'  his  gun.  Quick  as  a  wink,  Badger  grabbed 
the  gun;  but  Horace  threw  himself  on  Badger's  arm,  an' 


26o  FRIAR    TUCK 

yelled  for  help.  The  Friar  an'  Olaf  rushed  in  from  the 
lean-to,  an'  corraled  the  gun  in  short  order. 

"  You  blame  little  bob-cat,  you !  "  sez  Badger.  "  I  did  n't 
intend  to  use  the  gun  on  you." 

"  I  know  what  you  intended  to  do,"  sez  Horace ;  "  but 
you  don't  win  this  deal  as  easy  as  all  that." 


CHAPTER  TWENTY-SEVEN 


AFTER  this  we  tied  Badger-face  in  bed  an'  kept  watch  of 
him.  He  kept  on  gettin'  stronger  all  the  time,  an'  a  good 
percent  of  his  meanness  came  back  with  his  strength.  Some- 
times he  'd  spend  hours  tauntin'  Horace  an'  the  Friar ;  but 
they  did  n't  mind  it  any  more  'n  if  Badger  had  been  a  caged 
beast.  Then  one  night  he  concluded  to  try  cussin'.  He 
started  in  to  devise  somethin'  extra  fancy  in  the  way  o'  high- 
colored  profanity;  but  he  hadn't  gone  very  far  on  this 
path,  before  Olaf  came  in  as  black  as  a  thunder  cloud. 

"  Do  you  want  to  be  whipped  with  a  whip  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  Naw,  I  don't  want  to  be  whipped  with  a  whip,"  sez 
Badger-face. 

"  Then  you  stop  swearin',"  sez  Olaf.  "  We  been  to  enough 
trouble  about  you,  and  I  don't  intend  to  have  my  wife  listen 
to  any  more  o'  your  swearin'.  If  you  don't  stop  it,  I  whip 
all  your  skin  off.  You  say  you  want  to  die  —  I  whip  you  to 
death  before  your  very  eyes." 

Badger  heaved  at  his  ropes  a  time  or  two,  an'  then  he 
realized  his  weakness,  sank  back  on  the  bed,  an'  the  tears 
rolled  down  his  cheeks.  He  fair  sobbed.  "  You  're  a  set  o' 
cowards,"  he  yelled,  "  the  whole  pack  o'  you !  You  would  n't 
let  me  die,  and  now  you  threaten  to  whip  me  to  death.  I 
dare  any  one  of  ya  to  shoot  me  — you  yellow-hearted 
cowards !  " 

"  I  care  not  for  what  you  say  I  am,"  said  Olaf.     "  You 


262  FRIAR    TUCK 

know  if  I  am  a  coward,  and  you  know  if  I  keep  my  word. 
I  say  to  you,  slow  an'  careful,  that  if  you  yell  swear  words 
again  in  my  house,  I  whip  your  hide  off." 

Well,  this  had  a  quietin'  influence  on  Badger's  conversa- 
tion; but  he  fretted  himself  a  good  deal  as  to  what  we  in- 
tended to  do  with  him.  Finally  one  day  when  he  began  to 
look  a  little  more  like  a  live  man  than  a  skeleton,  Horace 
sez  to  him :  "  Badger,  you  said  you  did  n't  have  any  friends, 
an'  it  must  be  true,  'cause  not  one  of  your  own  outfit  has 
ever  been  to  see  you,  not  even  Ty  Jones." 

"  Ty  Jones  don't  stay  out  here  through  the  winter,"  sez 
Badger-face.  "  If  he  'd  been  here,  he  'd  have  squared  things 
up  for  this,  one  way  or  another." 

"  Where  does  he  go  ?  "  asked  Horace. 

"  I  don't  know,"  sez  Badger-face. 

Horace  asked  Olaf  about  it,  and  Olaf  said  'at  Ty  Jones 
allus  pulled  out  in  December,  an'  didn't  come  back  until 
March. 

Then  Horace  came  in  and  sat  by  Badger  again.  "  I  've 
got  a  proposition  to  make  to  you,"  sez  he,  "  and  you  think 
it  over  before  you  answer.  I  have  plenty  o'  money;  but 
I  've  wasted  most  o'  my  life,  sittin'  down.  If  you  are  sick 
of  livin'  like  a  wolf,  I  '11  pay  your  expenses  and  half  again 
as  much  as  Ty  Jones  is  payin'  you,  and  all  you  '11  have  to 
agree  to  is  to  go  along  as  a  sort  of  handy-man  for  me.  I 
think  we  can  get  to  be  purty  good  friends,  but  that  can  wait. 
I  intend  to  ramble  around  wherever  my  notions  take  me.  If 
you  '11  give  your  word  to  be  as  decent  as  you  can,  I  '11  give 
my  word  to  stand  by  you  as  far  as  I  'm  able.  Your  life  is 
forfeit  to  me,  an'  if  you  '11  do  your  part,  I  intend  to  make 
the  balance  of  it  worth  while  to  ya.  Now,  don't  answer  me  ; 
but  think  it  over  an'  ask  all  the  questions  you  want  to.  I  '11 


A    STRANGE    ALLIANCE  263 

answer  true  what  I  do  answer;  but  I  won't  answer  any  'at 
1  don't  want  to." 

If  Horace  had  crept  in  an'  cut  off  his  two  ears,  Badger 
would  n't  have  been  any  more  surprised.  Well,  none  of  us 
would,  as  far  as  that  goes ;  though  why  we  should  let  any- 
thing 'at  Horace  chose  to  do  surprise  us  by  this  time  is 
more  'n  I  know. 

He  an'  Badger  talked  it  over  complete  for  several  days, 
Horace  agreein'  that  he  would  n't  ask  Badger  to  go  anywhere 
the  army  or  the  law  was  likely  to  get  him  an'  not  to  make 
him  do  any  stunts  'at  would  make  him  look  foolish.  He  told 
Horace  'at  he  had  served  one  enlistment  an'  got  a  top-notch 
discharge,  an'  had  then  took  on  again ;  but  a  drunken  officer 
had  him  tied  on  a  spare  artillery  wheel  because  Badger  had 
laughed  when  the  officer  had  fallen  off  his  horse  into  a  mud- 
puddle.  He  said  they  had  laid  the  wheel  on  the  ground  and 
him  across  it,  the  small  of  his  back  restin'  on  the  hub  o'  the 
wheel,  an'  his  arms  an'  legs  spread  an'  tied  to  the  rim,  an' 
had  kept  him  there  ten  hours.  He  said  that  he  had  deserted 
the  first  chance  he  got ;  but  he  refused  to  tell  what  had  hap- 
pened to  the  officer  afterward. 

Finally  Badger  said  he  would  take  up  Horace's  proposi- 
tion ;  an'  Horace  called  Olaf  in  to  see  if  Badger  was  speakin' 
true.  This  was  the  first  Badger  had  ever  heard  about  Olaf's 
eyes  seein'  soul-flames ;  but  he  said  'at  this  explained  a  lot  to 
him  he  had  n't  understood  before.  Olaf  looked  at  him  care- 
ful ;  an'  Badger  held  up  his  right  hand  an'  said  that  as  long 
as  Horace  treated  him  square,  he  would  be  square  with 
Horace,  even  to  the  point  of  givin'  up  his  life  for  him. 

"  He  is  speakin'  true,"  sez  Olaf ;  and  from  that  very 
minute,  Badger-face  became  a  different  man,  an'  Horace  took 
off  the  ropes. 


264  FRIAR    TUCK 

"  You  do  look  some  like  a  badger  with  that  bum  beard  on," 
sez  Horace ;  "  but  I  don't  like  this  name,  and  I  want  you  to 
pick  out  a  new  one.  Pick  out  some  Christian  name,  your 
own  or  any  other;  but  now  that  you  are  startin'  on  a  new 
life,  it  will  help  to  have  a  new  name." 

Badger-face  studied  over  this  a  long  time,  but  he  could  n't 
root  up  any  name  to  suit  him  so  he  told  Horace  to  pick 
out  a  name,  and  he  'd  agree  to  wear  it. 

"  Well,"  sez  Horace,  after  he  'd  give  it  a  good  thinkin' 
over,  "  I  think  I  '11  call  you  Prometheus." 

Badger  looked  at  him  purty  skeptical.  "  I  don't  intend 
to  take  no  Greaser  name,"  sez  he.  "  Is  that  Mexican  ?  " 

"  No,"  sez  Horace.  "  That 's  Greek ;  an'  the  original 
Promotheus  was  an  all  around  top-notcher.  He  was  a  giant, 
so  you  couldn't  complain  none  on  your  size;  he  rebelled 
again'  the  powers,  so  you  couldn't  call  him  a  dog-robber; 
but  the  thing  'at  you  two  are  closest  together  in,  is  your  in- 
fernal stubbornness.  They  tried  to  break  Promotheus  down 
by  chainin'  him  to  a  rock  while  the  vultures  fed  on  his  liver, 
but  they  could  n't  make  him  give  in.  '  Pity  the  slaves  who 
take  the  yoke/  sez  he ;  '  but  don't  pity  me  who  still  have  my 
own  self-respect.'  " 

Badger- face  was  so  blame  weak  that  his  eyes  filled  up  with 
tears  at  this;  an'  the  only  way  he  could  straighten  himself 
up  was  to  put  a  few  florid  curses  on  his  own  thumby  left- 
handedness ;  but  Olaf  had  gone  after  some  wood,  so  it  did  n't 
start  anything.  "  I  '11  take  that  name,"  sez  he,  "  an'  I  '11 
learn  how  to  spell  an'  pronounce  it  as  soon  as  I  can;  but 
you  've  diluted  down  my  blood  so  confounded  thin  with  your 
doggone,  sloppy  milk  diet  that  I  'm  a  long  way  from  havin' 
that  feller's  grit,  right  at  this  minute." 

Horace  stood  over  Badger-face,  an'  pointed  his  finger  at 


A    STRANGE    ALLIANCE  265 

him,  fierce.  "  Listen  to  me,"  sez  he.  "  The  next  time  you 
heave  out  an  insult  to  milksops  or  milk  diets,  I  '11  sing  you 
my  entire  song  —  to  the  very  last  word." 

We  set  up  a  howl ;  but  Badger-face  did  n't  realize  all  he 
was  up  against  when  he  took  on  with  Horace,  so  he  only 
smiled  in  a  sickly  way,  an'  looked  puzzled. 

"  I  '11  tell  ya  what  I  'm  willin'  to  do,  Dinky,"  said  he,  as 
soon  as  we  stopped  our  noise ;  "  now  that  I  've  took  a  new 
name,  I  don't  need  to  wear  this  sort  of  a  beard  any  more, 
an',  if  ya  want  me  to,  I  '11  trim  it  up  the  same  fool  way  'at 
you  wear  yours ;  an'  I  '11  wear  glasses,  too,  if  you  say  the 
word." 

"  We  '11  wait  first  to  see  how  you  look  in  a  biled  shirt,"  sez 
Horace ;  "  but  in  honor  of  your  new  name,  I  'm  goin'  to 
let  you  have  some  deer-meat  soup  for  your  dinner,  an'  a 
bone  to  gnaw  on." 

We  had  a  regular  feast  that  day,  and  called  Badger-face 
Promotheus  every  time  we  could  think  up  an  excuse;  so 
as  to  have  practice  on  the  name.  The  Friar  did  his  best 
to  take  part ;  but  I  knew  every  line  in  his  face,  and  it  hurt 
me  to  see  him  fightin'  at  himself. 

After  dinner  we  took  a  walk  together ;  but  we  did  n't  talk 
none  until  we  had  climbed  the  rim,  fought  the  wind  for  a 
couple  of  hours,  an'  started  back  again.  It  was  his  plan  to 
think  of  some  big,  common  chunk  of  life  when  he  was  in 
trouble,  so  as  to  take  his  mind  as  much  as  possible  off  him- 
self;  and  he  started  to  talk  about  Horace  an'  Promotheus. 
He  even  laughed  a  little  at  the  combination  which  Promotheus 
Flannigan  an'  Horace  Walpole  Bradford  would  make  when 
they  settled  down  on  the  East  again. 

"  The  more  I  think  it  over,"  said  the  Friar,  "  the  plainer 
I  can  see  that  most  of  our  sorrow  an'  pain  and  savageness 


266  FRIAR    TUCK 

comes  from  our  custom  of  punishin'  the  crops  instead  of  the 
farmers.  Look  at  the  possibilities  the'  was  in  Promotheus 
when  he  started  out.  He  has  a  strong  nature,  and  in  spite 
of  his  life,  he  still  has  a  lot  o'  decent  humanity  in  him.  Who 
can  tell  what  he  might  have  been,  if  his  good  qualities  had 
been  cultivated  instead  o'  smothered  ?  " 

"  That 's  true  enough,"  sez  I ;  "  and  look  at  Horace,  too. 
They  simply  let  him  wither  up  for  forty  years,  and  yet  all 
this  time  he  had  in  him  full  as  much  devilment  as  Promo- 
theus himself." 

"  Oh,  we  waste,  we  waste,  we  waste !  "  exclaimed  the 
Friar.  "  Instead  o'  usin'  the  strength  and  vigor  of  our  man- 
hood in  a  noble  way,  we  let  some  of  it  rust  and  decay,  and 
some  of  it  we  use  for  our  own  destruction.  The  outlaw 
would  have  been  the  hero  with  the  same  opportunity,  and 
who  can  tell  what  powers  lie  hidden  behind  the  mask  of 
idleness !  " 

"  Well,  that 's  just  it,"  sez  I.  "  A  human  bein'  is  like  a 
keg  o'  black  stuff.  For  years  it  may  sit  around  perfectly 
harmless ;  and  only  when  the  right  spark  pops  into  it  can  we 
tell  whether  it 's  black  sand  or  blastin'  powder.  Even  Horace, 
himself,  thought  he  was  black  sand ;  but  he  turned  out  to  be 
a  mighty  high  grade  o'  powder." 

We  walked  on  a  while  without  talkin' ;  but  the  Friar  was 
wrastlin'  with  his  own  thoughts,  an'  finally  he  stopped  an' 
asked  me  as  solemn  as  though  I  was  the  boss  o'  that  whole 
country :  "  If  you  had  started  a  lot  o'  work,  and  part  of  it 
promised  to  yield  a  rich  harvest  with  the  right  care,  and  part 
of  it  looked  as  though  it  might  sink  back  to  worse  than  it 
had  been  in  the  beginnin'  —  is  there  anything  in  the  world 
which  could  make  you  give  it  up?" 

The  Friar  knew  my  life  as  well  as  I  did ;  so  I  did  n't  have 


A    STRANGE    ALLIANCE  267 

to  do  any  pertendin'  with  him.  "  Yes,"  I  sez,  "  the  right 
woman  would." 

The  Friar  didn't  do  any  pertendin'  with  me  either.  He 
stood,  shakin'  his  head  slowly  from  side  to  side.  "  I  wish 
I  knew,  I  wish  I  knew,"  he  said. 

We  walked  on  again,  an'  when  we  came  in  sight  o'  the 
cabin,  I  sez  to  him,  in  order  to  give  him  a  chance  to  free 
his  mind  if  he  saw  fit :  "  Horace  told  me  what  he  knew 
about  it." 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  sez  the  Friar ;  "  but  no  one  knew  very 
much.  She  was  a  splendid  brave  girl,  Happy.  I  had  known 
her  when  she  was  a  little  girl  and  I  a  farmer  boy.  I  was 
much  older  than  she  was,  but  I  was  allus  interested  in  her. 
There  was  n't  one  thing  they  could  say  against  her  —  and 
yet  they  drove  her  out  o'  my  life.  I  thought  she  was  dead, 
I  heard  that  she  was  dead;  so  I  buried  her  in  my  heart, 
and  came  out  here  where  life  was  strong  and  young,  be- 
cause I  could  not  work  back  there.  I  tried  to  work  in  the 
slums  of  the  cities ;  but  I  could  not  conquer  my  own  bitter- 
ness, with  the  rich  wastin'  and  the  poor  starvin'  all  about 
me.  I  have  found  joy  in  my  life  out  here;  but  she  has  come 
to  life  again  with  that  picture,  and  once  more  I  am  at  war 
with  myself." 

"  Well,  I  '11  bet  my  eyes,  Friar,"  sez  I,  "  that  you  find  the 
right  answer;  but  I  haven't  got  nerve  enough  to  advise 
ya  —  though  I  will  say  that  if  it  was  me,  I  'd  pike  out  an' 
look  for  the  girl." 

"  I  wish  I  knew,  I  wish  I  knew,"  was  all  the  Friar 
said. 

Prometheus  didn't  have  any  set-backs  after  this.  We 
talked  over  whether  it  would  be  better  to  have  him  go  up  to 
Ty's  an'  tell  the  boys  some  big  tale  about  Dinky  Bradford, 


268  FRIAR    TUCK 

or  to  just  pull  out  an'  leave  'em  guessin' ;  and  we  finally  came 
to  the  conclusion  'at  the  last  would  be  the  best. 

He  was  still  purty  weak  by  the  first  o'  February;  but 
he  was  beginnin'  to  fret  at  bein'  housed  up  any  longer,  so 
we  began  to  get  ready  to  hit  the  back-trail.  By  takin'  wide 
circles  we  could  get  through  all  right,  at  this  season;  but 
with  Promotheus  still  purty  wobbly,  it  wasn't  likely  to  be 
a  pleasant  trip,  an'  we  did  n't  hurry  none  with  our  prepara- 
tions. Horace  insisted  on  payin'  Olaf  two  hundred  dollars 
for  his  share  o'  the  bother,  an'  I  'm  purty  certain  he  slipped 
Kit  another  hundred.  He  wasn't  no  wise  scrimpy  with 
money. 

We  started  on  the  tenth  of  February,  Promotheus  ridin'  a 
quiet  old  hoss,  an'  still  lookin'  purty  much  like  a  bitter  recol- 
lection. They  were  consid'able  surprised  when  we  arrived 
at  the  Diamond  Dot ;  but  we  only  told  'em  as  much  of  our 
huntin'  as  we  felt  was  necessary. 

Horace  intended  to  start  for  the  East  at  once;  but  next 
day  when  he  put  on  his  dude  clothes  again,  Promotheus  purty 
nigh  bucked  on  him.  Most  of  Horace's  raiment  was  summer 
stuff,  nachely ;  but  he  had  a  long  checked  coat  'at  he  wore 
with  a  double  ended  cap,  which  certainly  did  look  comical. 
He  had  cut  some  fat  off  his  middle,  an'  had  pushed  out  his 
chest  an'  shoulders  consid'able;  so  that  his  stuff  wrinkled 
on  him ;  and  it  took  a  full  hour  to  harden  Promotheus  to  the 
change. 

"  Do  I  have  to  look  like  that  ?  "  sez  he. 

"  You  conceited  ape  you !  "  sez  Horace.  "  You  could  n't 
look  like  this  if  you  went  to  a  beauty  doctor  for  the  rest  o' 
time;  but  as  soon  as  we  get  where  they  sell  clothes  for 
humans,  I  'm  goin'  to  provide  you  with  somethin'  in  the 
nature  of  a  disguise." 


A    STRANGE    ALLIANCE  269 

Disguise  sounded  mighty  soothin'  to  Prometheus,  so  he 
gritted  his  teeth,  an'  said  he  would  n't  go  back  on  his  word. 
The  fact  was,  that  it  did  give  ya  an  awful  shock  to  see  Horace 
as  he  formerly  was.  We  had  got  so  used  to  seein'  him  gettin' 
about,  able  an'  free,  that  it  almost  seemed  like  a  funeral  to 
have  him  drop  down  to  those  clothes  again. 

The  Friar  went  over  to  the  station  with  us,  and  he  an' 
Horace  had  a  confidential  talk;  and  then  Horace  and  Pro- 
motheus  got  on  the  train  and  scampered  off  East. 

"  I  'm  goin'  to  stick  right  here,  Happy,"  sez  the  Friar.  "  I 
have  let  my  work  get  way  behind,  in  tendin'  to  Promotheus ; 
but  from  now  on  I  'm  goin'  to  tie  into  it  again.  I  'd  like  to 
do  something  to  put  the  cattle  men  and  the  sheep  men  on 
better  terms ;  but  this  seems  like  a  hard  problem." 

"  Yes,"  sez  I,  "  that  ain't  no  job  for  a  preacher,  and  I  'd 
advise  you  to  let  it  alone.  The  cattle  men  will  put  up  the 
same  sort  of  an  argument  for  their  range  'at  the  Injuns  did; 
but  between  you  and  me,  I  doubt  if  they  stand  much  more 
show  in  the  long  run." 

"  I  can't  see  why  there  is  n't  room  for  both,"  sez  the  Friar. 
"  It  seems  to  me  that  the  cattle  men  are  too  harsh." 

"  Nope,"  sez  I,  "  there  ain't  room  for  'em  both,  an'  the's 
somethin'  irritatin'  about  sheep  that  makes  ya  want  to  be 
harsh  with  all  who  have  dealin's  with  'em.  Hosses  can  starve 
out  cattle  an'  sheep  can  starve  out  hosses ;  but  after  a  sheep 
has  grazed  over  a  place,  nothin'  bigger  'n  an  ant  can  find  any 
forage  left.  Cattle  are  wild  an'  tempestus,  an'  they  bellow  an' 
tear  around  an'  fight,  and  the  men  who  tend  'em  are  a  good 
bit  like  'em ;  while  sheep  just  meekly  take  whatever  you  Ve 
a  mind  to  give  'em ;  but  they  hang  on,  just  the  same,  an'  mul- 
tiply a  heap  faster  'n  cattle  do.  A  sheep  man  is  meek  —  like 
a  Jew.  If  a  Jew  gets  what  he  wants  he 's  satisfied,  an'  he  's 


2;o  FRIAR    TUCK 

willin'  to  pertend  'at  he 's  had  the  worst  o'  the  deal ;  but  a 
cattle  man  is  never  satisfied  unless  he  has  grabbed  what  he 
wanted  away  from  some  one  else,  an'  then  shot  him  up  a 
little  for  kickin'  about  it.  It  '11  probably  be  fifty  or  a  hun- 
dred years  yet,  before  the  sheep  men  are  strong  enough  to 
worry  the  cattle  men ;  but  they  'l\  sure  do  it  some  day." 
That 's  what  I  told  the  Friar  that  time  at  the  station,  an'  I 
guessed  the  outcome  close  enough,  though  I  did  n't  make 
much  of  a  hit  as  to  the  time  it  was  goin'  to  take. 

Well,  the  Friar,  he  rode  away  east  to  Laramie,  and  I  went 
north  to  the  Diamond  Dot,  and  got  things  ready  for  the 
summer  work. 


CHAPTER   TWENTY-EIGHT 

THE    HEART   OF    HAPPY    HAWKINS 

LATE  the  next  summer,  I  got  a  fine  long  letter  from  Horace 
—  and  blame  if  he  did  n't  succeed  in  surprisin'  me  again. 
He  wrote  this  letter  from  Africa,  which  is  about  the  foreign- 
est  parts  this  world  is  able  to  exhibit,  I  reckon.  He  told 
about  the  East  not  findin'  favor  with  Prometheus,  though 
he  had  done  all  he  could  for  him,  startin'  out  with  high 
society  and  endin'  up  by  takin'  him  down  one  night  to  a 
sailor's  saloon  and  lettin'  him  mix  into  a  general  fight;  but 
that  Promotheus  just  simply  couldn't  stand  the  tameness, 
and  so  they  had  gone  to  Africa  to  hunt  big  game,  and  give 
the  folks  out  our  way  a  chance  to  forget  there  ever  had 
been  such  a  cuss  as  Badger-face. 

He  sent  along  some  photographs,  too,  and  they  was  as 
novel  as  a  blue  moon  —  Horace,  Promotheus,  and  a  lot  o' 
naked  niggers  totin'  packs  on  their  heads.  Horace  was  the 
funniest  lookin'  mortal  a  body  ever  saw;  but  Promotheus 
had  him  beat  a  mile.  They  both  wore  bowls  on  their  heads 
an'  colored  glasses;  but  Promotheus  with  side-burns  was 
sure  enough  to  frighten  a  snake  into  convulsions!  His 
gnawin'  teeth  stuck  out  through  a  self-satisfied  grin;  and 
I  was  willin'  to  bet  that  as  soon  as  the  heathen  saw  him, 
they  'd  give  up  bowin'  down  to  wood  an'  stone. 

The  next  time  I  saw  Friar  Tuck,  he  told  me  about  re- 
ceivin'  a  letter  from  Horace  who  had  gone  to  Berlin  on  his 
way  to  Africa,  but  had  n't  been  able  to  learn  anything  satis- 


272  FRIAR    TUCK 

factory.  The  singer  had  been  the  big  card  at  their  concerts, 
an'  there  had  been v  some  talk  about  her  gettin'  drugged  by 
an  Austrian  who  belonged  to  the  em-bassy;  but  she  had 
disappeared  complete,  an'  nobody  could  be  found  who  seemed 
to  know  anything  about  it.  The  Friar  kept  himself  goin' 
like  a  steam-engine  these  days ;  but  while  he  became  a  little 
more  tender  if  possible,  he  lacked  something  of  his  old-time 
spirits.  Before  this,  he  used  to  come  sweepin'  along  like 
a  big  cool  breeze,  an'  a  feller's  spirits  just  got  up  an'  whirled 
along  with  him,  like  dry  leaves  dancin'  in  the  wind. 

He  said  'at  since  Promotheus  had  slipped  out  o'  the 
country,  the  Cross-branders  had  n't  bothered  Olaf  any ;  but 
I  called  his  attention  to  the  fact  that  this  was  a  wet  spring, 
an'  told  him  'at  when  we  had  a  long  dry  spell,  Ty  Jones 
would  just  swallow  Olaf  like  quicksand. 

Things  drifted  along  purty  steady  in  our  parts  for  sev- 
eral years.  Once  in  a  while,  the  Friar  would  tell  me  some- 
thing about  Olaf  or  something  about  Ty  Jones ;  but  for  the 
most  part,  I  was  too  much  took  up  with  other  things  to  care 
much  for  even  the  Friar's  doin's. 

I  was  takin'  my  own  Moses-trip  durin'  these  years;  and 
I  say  now,  as  I  allus  have  said,  that  it  was  n't  a  square  shake 
to  show  Moses  the  promised  land,  an'  then  not  let  him  into 
it  for  even  one  meal  o'  milk  an'  honey.  I  've  handled  a  small 
bunch  o'  men  an'  trailed  cattle  with  'em  for  only  three 
months  at  a  stretch;  but  I  don't  mind  tellin'  you  that  the' 
was  times  when  I  had  to  sit  up  till  after  midnight,  sewin' 
up  the  rips  in  my  patience  —  an'  we  did  n't  have  any  women 
an'  children  along  either.  Moses  had  forty  years  of  it  in  the 
desert;  with  a  whole  blame  tribe  of  Israelties;  and  yet, 
instead  o'  praisin'  him  for  hangin'  on  to  his  sanity  with  all 
the  odds  again'  him,  he  was  handed  a  tantalizer,  simply  be- 


HEART    OF    HAPPY    HAWKINS    273 

cause  he  said  he  could  n't  see  why  somethin'  did  n't  happen 
in  a  natural,  orderly  way,  once  in  a  while,  without  everlast- 
ingly ringin'  in  some  new  kind  of  a  miracle  on  him. 

If  I  had  to  pilot  a  mob  like  that  through  a  desert  for  forty 
years,  follerin'  a  cloud  by  day  an'  a  pillar  o'  fire  by  night, 
havin'  dressed  quail  an'  breakfast-food  tossed  to  me  out  o' 
the  sky,  gettin'  my  drinkin'  water  by  knockin'  it  out  of  a 
rock,  an'  tryin'  to  satisfy  the  tourists  that  it  was  n't  altogether 
my  fault  that  we  traveled  so  everlastin'  slow  —  I  'd  'a'  been 
mad  enough  to  bite  all  the  enamel  off  my  teeth,  and  yet  as 
far  as  I  could  see,  Moses  did  n't  do  a  single  thing  but  show 
out  a  little  peevish  once  in  a  while. 

Still,  we  did  n't  choose  our  natures  nor  the  kind  o'  life  to 
range  'em  over  nor  the  sorts  o'  temptations  we'd  prefer  to 
wrastle  with ;  an'  even  our  own  experiences  are  more  'n  we 
can  understand  —  to  say  nothin'  o'  settin'  back  an'  decidin' 
upon  the  deeds  of  others.  My  own  test  was  n't  the  one  I  'd 
'a'  chosen ;  and  yet,  for  all  I  know,  it  may  'a'  been  the  very 
best  one,  for  me. 

Little  Barbie  had  finally  grown  up  through  childhood  to 
the  gates  o'  womanhood  —  and  as  generally  happens,  she  had 
found  a  man  waitin'  for  her  there.  Through  all  the  years  of 
her  growin',  she  had  been  sendin'  out  tendrils  which  reached 
over  an'  wound  about  my  heart,  and  grew  into  it  an'  through 
it,  and  became  part  of  it.  If  it  had  n't  V  been  for  Friar  Tuck, 
I  might  'a'  married  her,  myself;  for  I  could  have  done  it, 
if  all  the  men  I  'd  had  to  fight  had  been  other  men  — but 
the  man  I  could  n't  overcome,  was  myself. 

Through  all  the  years  I  had  known  Friar  Tuck  an'  rode 
with  him  an'  worked  with  him  an'  slept  out  under  the  stars 
with  him,  he  had  been  quietly  trainin'  me  for  the  time  when 
it  would  be  my  call  to  take  my  own  love  by  the  throat,  for 


274  FRIAR    TUCK 

the  sake  of  the  woman  I  loved.  It  don't  weaken  a  man  to 
do  this ;  but  it  tears  him  —  My  God,  how  it  does  tear  him ! 

I,  my  own  self,  brought  back  the  man  she  loved  to  her, 
and  gave  her  into  his  arms ;  and  I  've  never  regretted  it  for 
one  single  minute ;  but  I  doubt  if  I  've  ever  forgot  it  for 
much  longer  'n  this  either. 

I  did  what  it  seemed  to  me  I  had  to  do  —  an'  the  Friar 
thinks  I  did  right,  which  counts  a  whole  lot  more  with  me  'n 
what  others  think.  I  went  through  my  desert,  I  climbed  my 
hill,  for  just  one  moment  I  saw  into  my  promised  land  — 
and  then  I  was  jerked  back,  and  not  even  .given  promotion 
into  the  next  world,  which  Moses  drew  as  his  consolation- 
prize.  And  yet,  takin'  it  all  around,  I  can  see  where  life  has 
been  mighty  kind  and  generous  to  me  after  all,  and  I  'm  not 
kickin'  for  a  minute. 

The  great  break  in  my  life  came  in  the  fall,  and  it  left  ol' 
Cast  Steel  a  more  changed  man  'n  it  did  me.  I  wanted  to 
swing  out  wide  —  to  ride  and  ride  and  ride  until  I  forgot  who 
I  was  and  what  had  happened ;  but  the  ol'  man  worked  on 
my  pity,  an'  I  agreed  to  stay  on  with  him  a  spell.  Durin'  the 
three  years  precedin',  I  had  got  into  the  handlin'  of  the  ranch, 
more  'n  he  had,  himself ;  so  I  spent  the  winter  makin'  my 
plans,  an'  goin'  over  'em  with  him.  He  came  out  toward 
spring  and  was  more  like  himself ;  but  when  the  first  flowers 
blossomed  on  the  benches,  they  seemed  to  be  drawin'  their  life 
blood  out  o'  my  very  heart.  All  day  long  I  had  a  burnin'  in 
my  eyes,  everywhere  I  went  I  missed  somethin',  until  the 
empty  hole  in  my  breast  seemed  likely  to  drive  me  frantic; 
an'  one  day  I  pertended  to  be  mad  about  some  little  thing, 
an'  threw  up  my  job  for  good  and  all. 

The  ol'  man  was  as  decent  as  they  ever  get.  He  knew 
how  I  had  been  hit,  an'  he  did  n't  try  any  foolishness.  He 


HEART    OF    HAPPY    HAWKINS    275 

gave  me  what  money  I  wanted,  told  me  to  go  and  have  it 
out  with  myself,  an'  come  back  to  him  as  soon  as  I  could. 
I  rode  away  without  havin'  any  aim  or  end  in  view,  just 
rode  an'  rode  an'  rode  with  memories  crowdin'  about  me 
so  thick,  I  could  n't  see  the  trail  I  was  goin'. 

Then  one  night  I  drew  up  along  side  o'  Friar  Tuck's  fire, 
saw  the  steady  light  of  his  courage  blazin'  out  through  his 
own  sadness,  the  same  as  it  had  done  all  those  years;  an' 
I  flopped  myself  off  my  hoss,  threw  myself  flat  on  the 
grass,  an'  only  God  and  the  Friar  know  how  many  hours 
I  lay  there  with  his  hand  restin'  light  on  my  shoulder,  the 
little  fire  hummin'  curious,  soothin'  words  o'  comfort,  and 
up  above,  the  same  ol'  stars  shinin'  down  clear  and  un- 
changin'  to  point  out,  that  no  matter  how  the  storms  rage 
about  the  surface  o'  the  earth,  it 's  allus  calm  and  right,  if 
a  feller  only  gets  high  enough. 


CHAPTER   TWENTY-NINE 

THE   LITTLE  TOWN    OF   BOSCO 

I  HAD  N'T  done  much  eatin'  or  sleepin'  on  that  trip,  an'  I 
was  plumb  beat  out;  so  after  I  fell  asleep,  the  Friar  put 
a  soogan  over  me  and  left  me  by  the  fire.  He  awakened 
me  next  mornin',  gettin'  breakfast,  and  it  did  n't  take 
him  very  long  to  talk  me  into  joinin'  on  to  him  for  com- 
pany. I  had  been  avoidin'  humans,  for  fear  I  might  be 
tempted  to  start  trouble  and  find  the  easy  way  out  of  it  all ; 
but  his  plan  was  just  the  opposite  —  to  dive  so  deep  into 
humanity  that  I  could  catch  a  glimpse  o'  the  scheme  o' 
things. 

The  Friar  held  that  we  all  had  crosses  comin'  to  us  any 
way.  If  we  picked  'em  up  an'  put  'em  on  our  own  shoul- 
ders, we  'd  still  be  free,  an'  the  totin'  of  our  crosses  would 
make  us  stronger ;  while  if  we  tried  to  run  away,  we  'd  be 
roped  an'  thrown,  an'  the  crosses  chained  on  us.  I  'd  a  heap 
sooner  be  free  than  a  slave;  so  I  decided  to  carry  mine, 
head  up,  an'  get  right  with  myself  as  soon  as  possible. 

The  Friar  did  n't  work  off  any  solemn  stuff  on  me,  nor 
he  did  n't  try  to  be  funny ;  he  just  turned  himself  into  a 
sun-glass,  an'  focused  enough  sunshine  on  to  me  to  warm 
me  up  without  any  risk  of  blisterin'.  I  got  to  know  him 
even  better  those  days  than  I  had  before.  His  hair  was 
gettin'  a  bit  frosty  at  the  temples;  but  aside  from  this,  he 
hadn't  aged  none  since  the  first  day  I  had  seen  him.  He 
was  like  some  big  tree  growin'  all  by  itself.  Every  year  it 


THE  LITTLE  TOWN  OF  BOSCO  277 
seems  a  little  ruggeder,  every  year  it  seems  to  offer  a  little 
roomier  shade;  but  the  wind  and  the  rain  and  the  hot  sun 
don't  seem  to  make  it  grow  old.  They  only  seem  to  make 
it  take  a  deeper  root,  and  throw  out  a  wider  spread  o' 
boughs. 

He  told  me  o'  some  o'  the  scraps  between  the  cattle  men 
an'  the  sheep  men  —  the  Diamond  Dot  was  out  o'  the  way 
of  sheep  at  that  time.  Then  I  began  to  take  a  little  more 
interest  in  things,  an'  after  takin'  note  for  a  day  or  so,  I 
prophesied  a  dry  summer;  and  this  brought  us  around 
to  Olaf. 

The  Friar  warmed  up  at  mention  of  him.  He  said  'at  he 
had  never  seen  a  match  turn  out  better  'n  Olaf 's.  He  said 
Kit  had  just  what  Olaf  lacked,  an'  Olaf  had  just  what  Kit 
lacked,  an'  their  boy  was  just  about  the  finest  kid  he  knew 
of  anywhere.  We  decided  to  head  up  their  way  an'  pay  a 
visit. 

As  we  rode  along  we  took  notice  of  the  way  things  were 
changin'.  We  passed  several  sheep  wagons,  five  or  six 
irrigation  ditches,  an'  here  and  there,  we  found  men  who 
put  more  faith  in  alfalfa  'n  they  did  in  stock.  The  Friar 
had  been  well  to  the  north  when  I  happened  upon  him,  and 
we  traveled  a  sight  o'  country  before  we  reached  our  desti- 
nation. Everywhere  folks  knew  him,  an'  he  knew  them; 
and  when  I  saw  their  faces  light  up  at  sight  of  him,  I  had 
to  admit  that  he  had  done  the  right  thing  in  stickin'. 

Mostly  he  sang  the  "  Art  thou  weary,"  one  for  his 
marchin'  song,  now;  and  it  got  into  my  blood  and  did  a 
lot  to  healthen  me  up  again.  I  can't  rightly  say  'at  I  ever 
got  religion;  but  more  'n  once  religion  has  got  me  an' 
lifted  me  up  like  the  Crazy  Water  in  flood,  bearin'  me  on 
over  rocks  an'  through  whirlpools,  an'  showin'  me  what  a 


278  FRIAR    TUCK 

weak,  useless  thing  I  was  at  the  best.  The's  somethin'  in- 
side me  'at  allus  responded  to  the  Friar's  music,  an'  made 
me  willin'  to  sweep  on  over  the  edge  o'  the  world  with 
him ;  but  when  he  tried  to  reason  out  religion  to  me,  I  have 
to  own  up  'at  the'  was  a  lot  of  it  I  could  n't  see  into. 

We  passed  Skelty's  old  place  on  our  way  in,  an'  found 
a  red-eyed,  black-headed  man  runnin'  it.  His  name  was 
Maxwell,  but  they  still  called  the  place  Skelty's.  We  went 
in  an'  had  dinner,  an'  found  five  or  six  Cross-branders 
there.  They  were  doin'  plenty  o'  drinkin'  an'  crackin'  idi- 
otic jokes  with  the  girls;  but  they  nodded  friendly  enough 
to  us,,  an'  we  nodded  back. 

As  soon  as  we  finished,  the  Friar  went  outside  for  his 
smoke ;  but  I  leaned  back  right  where  I  was  for  mine.  One 
o'  the  Cross-branders,  a  tall,  gaunt,  squinty  cuss  by  the  name 
o'  Dixon,  was  sittin'  near  me,  and  presently  he  turned  an' 
sez :  "  You  're  Happy  Hawkins,  ain't  ya  ?  " 

"  That 's  me,"  sez  I. 

"  Well,  on  the  level,"  sez  he,  "  what  became  o'  Badger- 
face?" 

"  I  've  often  wondered  about  that  myself,"  sez  I. 

"  We  supposed  he  got  killed,"  sez  he ;  "  but  two  fellers 
claimed  they  saw  him  goin'  south  in  the  spring  with  your 
huntin'  party." 

"  What  made  ya  think  he  got  killed  ?  "  sez  I. 

"  'Cause  he  started  over  here  one  night,  and  never  showed 
up  again,"  sez  he. 

"  I  don't  know  what  become  of  him,"  sez  I.  "  Dinky 
Bradford  said  he  was  goin'  to  take  him  to  Africa;  but 
whether  he  did  or  not  I  can't  say.  I  never  felt  no  call  to 
pry  into  Dinky's  business.  Looks  to  me  as  though  we  were 
goin'  to  have  an  extra  dry  summer." 


THE    LITTLE    TOWN    OF    BOSCO     279 

"  I  say  so  too,"  sez  Dixon.  "  Who  was  this  Dinky 
Bradford?" 

"  That 's  bothered  me  a  heap,"  sez  I.  "  He  claimed  to  be 
a  Greek  hero,  though  what  sort  o'  business  that  is,  I  can't 
say.  Finished  your  round-up  yet  ?  " 

"  Just  got  through.  Where  is  this  Greek  hero  these 
days  ?  "  sez  he. 

"  Can't  prove  it  by  me,"  sez  I.  "  He  's  one  o'  these  fellers 
no  one  seems  to  know  anything  about.  I  saw  him  go  with- 
out eatin'  for  four  days  once,  an'  he  came  out  of  it  in  better 
shape  'n  he  went  in.  Badger- face  was  your  foreman, 
was  n't  he  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  sez  he.    "  Ol'  Pepper  Kendal  is  foreman  now." 
"  I  should  think  a  foreman  would  have  some  load  on  his 
shoulders  with  the  boss  gone  all  winter,"  sez  I. 

"  The  boss  brought  a  woman  back  with  him  this  time," 
sez  Dixon. 

"What!"  sez  I.  "You  don't  mean  ta  tell  me  'at  Ty 
Jones  has  got  him  a  woman  after  all  these  years  ?  " 

"  That 's  what,"  sez  Dixon.  "  Somethin'  queer  about  her, 
too.  Ty  has  had  a  new  shack  built  for  her  up  back  o'  the 
old  house.  They  don't  seem  overly  friendly  for  a  bride 
an'  groom." 

"  Ain't  nothin'  overly  friendly  with  Ty,  is  the'  ?  "  sez  I. 
"  Oh,  I  dunno,"  sez  he.    "  Ty  ain't  as  sticky  as  taffy,  but 
he  's  a  mighty  good  man  to  work  for." 

"  What  sort  of  a  woman  did  he  get?  "  sez  I. 
"  She  don't  show  herself  much,"  sez  he.    "  She 's  tall  an' 
shapely,  an'  right  smart  younger    'n  Ty;    but  she  spends 
most  of  her  time  in  the  new  shack;    and  from  all  we  can 
tell,  she  's  froze  up  tighter  'n  Ty  is." 

"  Well,  I  guess  we  '11  have  to  jog  on.    Good  luck,"  sez  I, 


28o  FRIAR    TUCK 

and  me  an'  the  Friar  rode  on.  He  was  as  much  beat  out 
over  Ty  Jones  gettin'  a  woman  as  I  was ;  but  first  thing  he 
thought  of  was,  'at  this  might  have  a  softenin'  effect  on  Ty, 
an'  give  him  an  openin'. 

We  reached  Olaf's  in  time  for  supper,  and  found  Kit 
bustlin'  about  as  happy  as  a  little  brown  hen.  The  Friar 
had  n't  sprung  it  none  about  the  kid.  He  was  a  solid  little 
chunk  with  a  couple  o'  dimples  and  all  the  signs  o'  health. 
I  looked  careful  into  his  eyes.  They  were  full  o'  devilment, 
an'  he  scowled  his  brows  down  over  'em  when  I  held  him ; 
but  they  were  brown  like  Kit's. 

"  Oh,  he 's  too  dirty  to  touch,"  sez  Kit,  beamin'  all 
over  with  pride.  "  I  just  can't  keep  him  clean,  try  as  I 
will." 

"  Be  careful,  Happy,  and  don't  soil  your  hands  on  that 
baby !  "  yells  the  Friar  as  though  in  a  panic.  "  Let  me  have 
him.  I  was  dirty  once,  myself." 

It  was  plain  to  see  'at  the  kid  an'  the  Friar  were  old 
cronies;  and  it  was  a  pleasant  sight  to  see  'em  together. 
The  Friar  got  down  on  the  floor  with  him  an'  played  bear 
an'  horse  an'  the  kid  entered  into  it  an'  fair  howled  with 
merriment.  Kit  scolded  'em  both  an'  took  so  much  interest 
in  their  antics  she  hardly  knew  what  she  was  doin'  to  the 
supper  things. 

Before  long  Olaf  came  in.  He  still  took  up  all  the  space 
not  otherwise  occupied;  but  he  had  an  altogether-satisfied 
expression  which  made  ya  forget  how  everlastin'  ugly  he 
really  was.  He  took  us  out  an'  showed  us  the  garden,  an' 
the  new  wire  fencin'  an'  the  baby's  swing,  an'  all  the  rest  of 
his  treasures.  Olaf  didn't  want  any  more  changes  to  take 
place  in  the  world.  If  his  vote  could  have  made  it,  things 
would  just  continue  as  they  were  until  the  earth  wore  out. 


THE    LITTLE    TOWN    OF    BOSCO     281 

It  made  me  feel  a  little  lonely  for  a  moment ;  but  I  entered 
in  as  hearty  as  I  could. 

Durin'  supper  I  sez  to  Kit :  "  Well,  Ty  Jones  ha's  a 
woman,  now;  and  if  it  improves  him  as  much  as  it  has 
Olaf,  he  may  blossom  out  into  a  good  neighbor  to  you  yet." 

"  Ty  Jones  got  a  woman !  "  exclaimed  Kit.  "  Well,  I  'd 
just  like  to  lay  my  eyes  on  the  woman  'at  would  take  Ty 
Jones." 

"  Oh,  all  women  ain't  so  set  on  havin'  a  handsome  man  as 
you  were,"  sez  I. 

"  Well,  I  would  n't  have  any  other  kind,"  sez  Kit,  an'  she 
gave  her  head  a  toss  while  Olaf  grinned  like  a  full  moon. 

They  were  both  purty  well  beat  out  to  think  o'  Ty  Jones 
havin'  a  woman,  an'  we  all  talked  it  over  durin'  the  rest  o' 
the  meal.  After  supper,  Olaf  took  the  kid  on  his  lap  and  sat 
by  the  fire  tellin'  us  his  plans,  while  Kit  cleared  up  the 
dishes  an'  stuck  in  a  word  of  her  own  now  and  again.  It  was 
plain  to  see  'at  she  did  full  as  much  o'  the  plannin'  as  he 
did,  an'  this  was  probably  what  made  her  so  satisfied.  The 
kid  regarded  Olaf's  mustache  as  some  sort  of  an  exercisin' 
machine,  an'  Olaf  had  to  fight  him  all  the  time  he  was  talkin', 
but  he  certainly  did  set  a  heap  o'  store  by  that  boy. 

He  told  us  he  had  about  sixty  cows  and  a  fair  run  o'  two 
an'  three  year  olds  with  a  high  average  of  calves;  but  that 
he  intended  to  sell  the  whole  run  to  the  Double  V  outfit  up 
on  the  Rawhide,  and  get  a  small  band  of  sheep.  This  flat- 
tened me  out  complete;  but  he  had  a  lot  of  arguments  on 
his  side.  He  was  also  experimentin'  with  grain  seed  which 
he  had  got  from  Canada,  an'  he  already  had  a  patch  of 
alfalfa  which  was  doin'  fine.  He  was  one  o'  those  fellers 
who  can't  tire  'emselves  out,  an'  so  just  keep  on  workin'  as 
long  as  the  law  allows  'em  to  use  daylight.  He  had  a  young 


282  FRIAR    TUCK 

Swede  workin'  for  him,  but  just  at  that  time,  he  was  off 
lookin'  for  the  work  hosses  which  had  voted  'emselves  a 
vacation,  an'  had  gone  up  into  the  hills. 

The  Friar  wanted  to  go  up  into  the  Basin  country  next 
day,  so  we  bedded  down  purty  early.  I  lay  awake  a  long 
time  thinkin'  over  what  a  fright  Olaf  had  once  been,  and  how 
he  had  straightened  out  of  it. 

Next  mornin'  we  started  soon  after  sun-up.  The  Friar 
had  a  couple  o'  women  runnin'  a  Sunday  School  at  Bosco, 
and  he  wanted  to  see  how  they  were  gettin'  along.  They  had 
belonged  to  his  brand  of  church  clear  back  in  England,  and 
he  set  a  lot  of  store  by  'em;  but  owned  up  that  they  had 
their  work  cut  out  for  'em  at  Bosco ;  it  bein'  one  o'  the  most 
ungodly  little  towns  in  the  whole  country. 

We  nooned  on  Carter,  slipped  over  Boulder  Creek  Pass, 
and  reached  Bosco  at  sun-down.  It  allus  surprised  me  to 
see  how  much  travel  the  Friar  could  chalk  up,  takin'  his 
weight  into  account ;  but  he  was  less  irritatin'  to  a  hoss  'n 
airy  other  man  I  ever  met  up  with.  The  more  of  a  hurry 
he  was  in,  the  more  time  he  took  on  the  bad  hills ;  and  he 
never  robbed  a  hoss  by  sleepin'  an  hour  late  in  the  mornin', 
an'  makin'  the  hoss  even  up  by  travelin'  beyond  his  gait. 

The  husband  of  one  o'  these  women  ran  a  saloon,  the  hus- 
band of  the  other  —  the  women  were  sisters  —  was  the 
undertaker  and  also  ran  a  meat  market.  I  thought  this 
about  the  queerest  business  arrangement  I  had  ever  been 
confronted  against ;  but  the  man  himself  was  full  as  peculiar 
as  his  business. 

I  have  a  game  I  have  played  with  myself  all  my  life.  I 
call  it  "  why,"  an'  I  suppose  it  has  furnished  me  more  fun  'n 
anything  else  has.  I  take  any  proposition  I  come  across  an' 
say  all  the  whys  about  it  I  can  think  up  an'  then  try  to 


THE    LITTLE    TOWN    OF    BOSCO     283 

answer  'em.  Why  did  anything  ever  happen  just  as  it  did 
happen  just  when  it  did  happen?  This  is  the  joke  o'  life  to 
me.  I  have  played  it  on  myself  times  without  end ;  but  only 
once  in  a  while  even  with  myself  can  I  follow  the  line  back 
to  common  sense. 


CHAPTER   THIRTY  . 

TY   JONES   GETS   A    WOMAN 

Bosco  was  a  regular  town  with  twenty  or  thirty  houses,  a 
post  office,  two  general  stores,  three  saloons,  an'  all  such 
things;  and  right  on  a  good  stage  road  runnin'  north  an' 
south.  We  stopped  with  the  meat-market  undertaker,  'cause 
they  didn't  think  it  quite  respectable  for  the  Friar  to  live 
off  the  profits  of  the  liquor  traffic;  though  the  Friar  allus 
said  'at  he  had  a  heap  more  respect  for  a  square  saloon- 
keeper 'n  for  a  sneaky  drygoods  merchant. 

Shindy  Smith  was  the  saloon-keeper,  an'  Bill  Duff  was  the 
undertaker.  Duff  was  the  absent-mindedest  man  I  ever  got 
intimate  with,  an'  about  drove  his  wife  to  distraction,  she 
bein'  one  o'  these  hustlers  who  never  make  a  false  move. 
He  had  the  idee  that  bein'  an  undertaker  took  away  his  license 
to  laugh,  so  he  allus  walked  on  his  toes  an'  disported  as 
solemn  a  face  as  nature  would  allow ;  but  nature  had  in- 
tended him  for  a  butcher,  an'  had  made  his  face  round  and 
jowly.  Whenever  he  didn't  have  anything  else  to  do,  he 
used  to  sit  down  an'  practice  lookin'  solemn.  He  'd  fix  his 
eyes  on  the  ceilin',  clasp  his  hands  across  his  stomach,  pull 
up  his  eyebrows,  droop  his  mouth,  an'  look  for  all  the  world 
like  a  man  dyin'  o'  the  colic. 

He  was  so  absent-minded  that  he  'd  raise  his  cup  to  take 
a  drink  of  coffee,  forget  what  he  had  started  to  do,  an'  like 
as  not  pour  it  over  his  flapjacks  for  syrup.  He  started  to 
engineer  a  funeral  once  with  his  butcher's  apron  on,  and 


TY    JONES    GETS    A    WOMAN       285 

they  told  all  sorts  of  stories  about  him  which  was  shockin' 
to  an  extent ;  though  his  wife  kept  such  a  sharp  eye  on  him, 
that  I  don't  believe  more  'n  half  of  'em.  Still  it  was  n't  any 
sort  o'  business  for  an  absent-minded  man  to  be  in. 

It  was  an  uncertain  business.  Of  course  all  lines  o'  trade 
in  a  thinly  settled  country  go  by  fits  an'  starts ;  but  his  was 
worst  of  all.  Sometimes  he  'd  have  as  many  as  three  funerals 
a  month,  and  at  others  it  would  take  him  six  weeks  to  sell 
out  a  beef  carcass.  A  feller  who  had  a  spite  again'  him 
started  the  story  'at  he  soaked  his  meat  in  embalmin'  fluid, 
an'  then  if  they  came  an  extra  special  rush  in  both  lines  of 
his  business  at  the  same  time,  he  'd  —  but  then  his  wife 
kept  such  a  skeptical  eye  on  him,  'at  I  don't  believe  a  word  of 
these  stories,  an'  I  'm  not  goin'  to  repeat  'em.  The  worst 
I  had  again'  him  was  that  he  was  so  everlastin'  careless.  I 
lay  awake  f  rettin'  about  his  carelessness  till  I  could  n't  stand 
it  a  second  longer ;  and  then  I  rolled  up  half  the  beddin'  an' 
started  to  sleep  on  the  side  porch. 

"  Where  you  goin'  ?  "  sez  the  Friar. 

"  This  here  Bill  Duff  is  too  absent-minded  an'  forgetful 
for  me,"  sez  I. 

"  What  do  ya  mean  ?  "  sez  the  Friar. 

"  Well,"  sez  I,  "  I  don't  want  to  make  light  o'  sacred  things, 
nor  nothin'  like  that ;  but  Bill  Duff  's  got  somethin'  stored 
up  in  this  room  which  should  'a'  been  a  funeral  three  weeks 
ago,  and  I  intend  to  sleep  outside." 

The  Friar  chuckled  to  himself  until  he  shook  the  whole 
house;  but  it  wasn't  no  joke  to  me;  so  I  shunted  the 
beddin'  out  on  the  roof  o'  the  porch,  which  was  flat,  and 
prepared  to  take  my  rest  where  the  air  was  thin  enough 
to  flow  into  my  nostrils  without  scrapin'  the  lid  off  o'  what 
Horace  called  his  ol'  factory  nerve. 


286  FRIAR    TUCK 

As  soon  as  the  Friar  could  recover  his  breath,  he  stag- 
gered to  the  window,  an'  sez :  "  That 's  nothin'  but  cheese, 
you  blame  tenderfoot.  Limburger  cheese  is  the  food  Bill 
Duff  is  fondest  of,  and  he  has  four  boxes  of  it  stored  in 
this  room." 

"Then,"  sez  1^  comin'  in  with  the  beddin',  "I'll  sleep 
in  the  bed,  an'  the  cheese  can  sleep  on  the  porch;  but 
hanged  if  I  '11  occupy  the  same  apartment  with  it."  I  set 
the  cheese  out  on  the  porch  —  it  was  the  ripest  cheese  in 
the  world,  I  reckon  —  and  it  drew  all  the  dogs  in  town 
before  mornin'.  After  they  found  it  was  above  their 
reach,  I  'm  convinced  they  put  up  the  best  fight  I  ever 
listened  to. 

It  took  a  long  time  for  the  memory  o'  that  cheese  to  find 
its  way  out  the  window;  and  I  lay  thinkin'  o'  the  Friar's 
work,  long  after  he  had  drifted  off  himself.  He  was  n't 
squeamish  about  small  things,  the  Friar  wasn't,  and  this 
was  one  of  his  main  holts.  When  we  had  got  ready  to  eat 
that  night,  Mrs.  Duff  had  tipped  Bill  a  wink  to  ask  the  Friar 
to  say  blessin'.  Bill  was  in  one  of  his  vacant  spells,  as  usual,- 
so  he  looked  solemn  at  the  Friar,  and  sez :  "  It 's  your  deal, 
Parson."  Now,  a  lot  o'  preachers  would  'a'  gone  blue  an' 
sour  at  that ;  but  the  Friar  never  blinked  a  winker. 

Then  after  supper,  all  the  young  folks  o'  that  locality  had 
swooped  in  to  play  with  him.  This  winnin'  o'  young  folks 
was  a  gift  with  the  Friar,  and  it  used  to  warm  me  up  to 
watch  him  in  the  midst  of  a  flock  of  'em.  He  showed  'em 
all  kinds  o'  tricks  with  matches  an'  arithmetic  numbers,  an' 
taught  'em  some  new  games,  and  then  he  put  up  a  joke  on 
'em.  He  allus  put  up  one  joke  on  'em  each  visit. 

This  time  he  puts  a  glass  of  water  under  his  hat,  looks 
solemn,  and  sez  'at  he  can  drink  the  water  without  raisin' 


TY    JONES     GETS    A    WOMAN       287 

the  hat.  They  all  bet  he  can't,  and  finally  he  goes  into  a 
corner,  makes  motions  with  his  throat,  and  sez  he  is  now 
ready  to  prove  it.  Half  a  dozen  rush  forward  and  lift  the 
hat,  and  he  drinks  the  water,  and  thanks  'em  for  liftin'  the 
hat  for  him  so  he  could  drink  the  water  an'  make  his  word 
good. 

Some  folks  used  to  kick  again'  him  and  say  he  was  worldly ; 
but  his  methods  worked,  an'  that 's  a  good  enough  test  for 
me.  He  took  out  the  shyness  an'  the  meanness  an'  the  stu- 
pidity, and  gave  the  good  parts  a  chance  to  grow ;  which  I 
take  it  is  no  more  again'  religion  than  the  public  school  is. 
Why,  he  even  taught  'em  card  tricks. 

He  could  take  a  deck  of  cards  and  turn  it  into  a  complete 
calendar,  leap  year  and  all;  and  then  he  could  turn  it  into 
a  bible,  showin'  easy  ways  to  learn  things,  until  a  feller 
really  could  believe  'at  cards  was  invented  by  the  early 
Christians  who  had  to  live  in  caves,  as  some  claim.  All  the 
time  he  was  playin'  with  'em,  he  was  smugglin'  in  wise 
sayin's  with  his  fun,  pointin'  out  what  made  the  difference 
between  deceivin'  for  profit,  and  deceivin'  for  a  little  joke, 
tellin'  'em  how  to  enjoy  life  without  abusin'  it —  Why,  he 
even  went  so  far  as  to  say  that  if  a  feller  could  n't  be  reli- 
gious in  a  brandin'  pen  he  could  n't  be  religious  in  a  cathe- 
dral —  which  is  a  two-gun  church  with  fancy  trimmin's. 

By  the  time  he  had  expanded  the  young  folks  and  made 
'em  easy  and  at  home,  the  older  ones  had  arrived ;  and  then 
he  held  a  preachin'.  The  whole  outfit  joined  in  with  the 
singin',  and  when  he  began  to  talk  to  'em  every  eye  in  the 
room  was  glistenin'.  You  see,  he  knew  them  and  their  life ; 
and  they  knew  him  and  his.  He  had  nursed  'em  through 
sickness,  he  had  tended  their  babies,  he  had  helped  to  build 
their  cabins  an'  turn  'em  into  homes;  so  the  words  flowed 


288  FRIAR    TUCK 

out  of  his  heart  and  into  theirs  without  any  break  between. 
This  was  the  Friar  and  this  was  his  work  —  but  I  can't 
put  it  into  a  story. 

The'  was  a  no-account  cuss  by  the  name  o'  Jim  Stubbs 
who  lived  —  if  ya  could  call  it  livin'  —  at  Boggs;  and  the 
Friar  induced  him  to  go  along  on  one  of  his  trips.  When 
Jim  came  back  he  was  a  made-over  man,  and  every  one 
asked  him  if  he  had  religion.  "  Hell,  no,"  sez  Jim,  tryin' 
to  be  independent,  "  I  ain't  got  religion ;  but  a  feller  catches 
somethin'  from  the  Friar  the  same  as  if  he  had  the  measles  ; 
and  I  don't  covet  to  be  a  bum  no  more." 

This  gives  ya  the  best  idy  of  the  Friar  that  I  can  think  of ; 
and  I  finally  fell  asleep  there  at  Bill  Duff's,  with  my  mind 
made  up  to  bury  my  own  heartache,  keep  the  grave  of  it 
green,  but  live  out  my  life  as  hard  as  the  Friar  was  livin' 
his. 

We  had  intended  to  projec  about  in  the  Basin  next  day  to 
rustle  up  some  new  trade  in  the  Friar's  line ;  but  my  pony 
turned  up  lame,  so  we  held  over  to  get  him  shod.  When  the 
stage  pulled  in  that  evenin',  me  an'  the  Friar  went  down  to 
see  it.  A  little  feller  sat  on  the  seat  with  the  driver.  His 
hat  was  covered  with  dust  an'  pulled  down  over  his  eyes, 
an'  what  ya  could  see  of  him  was  the  color  o'  coffee;  but 
the  moment  I  lay  eyes  on  his  side-burns,  I  grabbed  the  Friar's 
arm  an'  whispered,  "  Horace !  "  and  by  dad,  that 's  who  it 
was.  Promotheus  was  in  the  back  seat,  an'  he  looked  for 
all  the  world  like  an  enlarged  copy,  except  that  his  side-burns 
were  red  an'  gray,  while  Horace's  were  mostly  brown.  But 
they  were  cut  exactly  the  same,  startin'  from  his  ears,  runnin' 
across  his  cheeks  an'  lips,  an'  then  curvin'  down  to  the  crook 
of  his  jaw,  close  cropped  an'  bristly. 

Horace  an'  Promotheus  hit  the  ground  as  soon  as  the  stage 


TY    JONES    GETS    A    WOMAN       289 

stopped,  an'  me  an'  the  Friar  dropped  back  out  o'  sight  in- 
side the  hotel.  Horace  gave  orders  about  his  two  boxes  an' 
started  into  the  hotel.  Just  as  he  came  through  the  door,  I 
stepped  out  an'  gave  him  a  shove.  "You  can't  come  in 
here,"  I  growled. 

He  stepped  back  as  fierce  as  a  rattler.  "  I  can't,  huh  ?  " 
he  piped.  "  Well,  we  '11  see  if  I  can't." 

Then  he  recognized  me,  an'  we  began  to  pump  hands. 
He  said  'at  he  and  Promotheus  had  only  reached  home  three 
weeks  before ;  but  they  could  n't  stand  it,  an'  so  had  made 
a  streak  for  the  West.  He  said  they  had  been  in  Africa  an' 
India,  until  they  had  become  plumb  disgusted  with  tropical 
heat,  an'  so  had  come  out  the  northern  route,  expectin'  to 
outfit  at  Bosco  an'  ride  down  to  the  Diamond  Dot. 

We  suppered  with  'em  an'  next  day  they  bought  a  string 
o'  hosses,  packed  their  stuff  on  'em,  an'  said  they  were  ready 
for  some  amusement.  Horace  had  got  a  little  snappier  in 
his  talk  an'  his  movements;  but  that  was  about  the  only 
change.  As  soon  as  we  told  'em  about  Ty  Jones  havin'  a 
woman,  that  settled  it.  Horace  insisted  upon  seein'  the 
woman,  an'  Promotheus  echoed  anything  'at  Horace  said, 
though  his  face  clouded  a  bit  at  the  idee  of  foolin'  around 
the  Cross  brand  ranch.  The  Friar  didn't  feel  any  call  to 
go_along  with  us;  but  it  was  more  to  my  mind  just  then 
'n  his  line  was,  so  I  jumped  at  the  chance. 

Horace  was  also  mighty  glad  to  add  me  to  his  outfit.  He 
had  been  used  to  havin'  a  lot  o'  Zulus  an'  Hindus  waitin'  on 
him,  and  had  n't  adjusted  himself  to  a  small  outfit  yet.  He 
said  he  had  sent  a  lot  o'  hides  an'  heads  an'  horns  and  other 
plunder  from  London,  England,  to  the  Diamond  Dot;  but 
had  been  too  busy  to  write  durin'  the  past  few  years.  He 
and  the  Friar  had  quite  a  talk  together  before  we  left ;  but 


290  FRIAR    TUCK 

I  could  tell  from  their  faces  'at  Horace  didn't  have  any 
news  for  him. 

We  had  high  jinks  when  we  reached  Olaf's ;  but  Horace 
didn't  make  any  hit  with  the  kid.  The  kid  had  a  jack-in- 
the-box  toy  'at  looked  consid'able  like  Horace,  an'  the  kid 
could  n't  square  things  in  his  own  mind,  to  see  a  big  size 
one,  out  an'  walkin'  about  like  a  regular  human ;  but  when 
he  also  got  to  studyin'  Prometheus,  he  was  all  undone.  Olaf 
tried  to  have  him  make  up  to  Horace,  but  he  would  n't  stand 
for  it.  He'd  sit  on  Olaf's  knee  and  look  first  at  his  jack- 
in-the-box,  then  at  Horace,  and  wind  up  with  a  long  look  at 
Promotheus.  Promotheus  would  try  to  smile  kind  an'  in- 
vitin',  and  then  the  kid  would  twist  around  and  bury  his  face 
in  Olaf's  vest.  Horace  nor  Promotheus  did  n't  mind  it  any ; 
but  as  far  as  that  goes,  the  kid  was  only  actin'  honest  an' 
natural,  accordin'  to  his  lights,  an'  the  jack-in-the-box  had 
as  much  of  a  kick  comin'  as  anybody. 

Ty  had  been  down  there  just  the  day  after  we  had  left, 
an'  had  wanted  to  buy  Olaf's  place;  but  only  offered  half 
what  it  was  worth.  He  had  done  this  half  a  dozen  times, 
an'  allus  insulted  Olaf  as  much  as  he  could  about  it.  Olaf 
had  wanted  to  sell  out  at  first ;  but  Kit  had  been  able  to  see 
'at  they  had  a  homestead  fit  for  any  thing,  and  she  had  allus 
insisted  that  they  get  full  price  or  hang  on.  Now,  it  was 
improved  way  beyond  common,  an'  they  were  both  fond  of 
it ;  so  they  had  decided  to  stick  it  out. 

"  This  is  goin'  to  be  a  dry  summer,"  sez  I. 

Olaf's  face  clouded  up  but  he  only  shut  his  lips  tighter. 
We  told  'em  we  were  on  our  way  up  to  try  an'  have  a  look 
at  Ty  Jones's  woman,  and  Olaf  said  he  'd  go  along  if  he 
did  n't  have  to  trail  his  cattle  up  to  the  Raw  Hide,  this  bein' 
part  o'  the  deal  he  had  made.  He  said  it  would  take  him 


TY  JONES  GETS  A  WOMAN  291 
about  ten  days  probably,  an'  wanted  us  to  camp  in  the  Spread, 
an'  keep  an  eye  on  his  stuff.  Olaf  clipped  the  first  joint  off 
o'  Promotheus's  name,  an'  I  was  glad  of  it. 

We  chucked  our  stuff  into  the  barn  next  mornin'  an' 
started  to  stalk  the  Cross  brand  neighborhood.  Horace  had 
a  small  field  glass  which  was  a  wonder,  and  we  worked  as 
careful  as  we  could.  It  was  only  fifteen  miles  across  from 
Olaf 's ;  but  all  we  were  able  to  do  the  first  day  was  to  find 
a  little  sheltered  spot  up  back  o'  the  ranch  buildin's  where 
we  could  get  a  good  view  of  'em  through  the  field  glass. 

Next  day  Olaf  an'  Oscar  started  with  the  bunch  o'  cattle, 
an'  we  rode  along  part  way  with  'em  to  give  'em  a  good 
start;  but  Olaf  had  handled  his  stuff  so  gentle  that  it  was 
no  trouble,  an'  we  turned  back  an'  took  up  our  watch  again. 
We  watched  for  a  week  without  seein'  a  thing,  ridin'  in 
each  night  to  sleep  back  of  Olaf's  shack.  Me  an'  Theus  — 
I  had  seen  Olaf's  ante  an'  had  raised  him  one  —  were  gettin' 
purty  weary  o'  this  sort  o'  work ;  but  Horace  was  as  patient 
as  a  spider.  Finally  though,  we  got  a  little  more  risky, 
and  leavin'  our  bosses  up  in  our  sheltered  spot,  we  follered 
down  a  ravine  to  get  nearer  to  the  new  cabin. 

We  had  caught  several  glimpses  of  a  woman  to  prove  to 
us  'at  the'  was  one  there;  but  that  was  about  all,  an'  so  we 
went  down  this  ravine,  tryin'  to  figure  out  what  excuse 
we  'd  give  if  we  came  across  any  of  Ty  Jones's  men.  Neither 
me  nor  The  —  Promotheus  had  said  'at  we  could  n't  be  no 
politer  'n  he  could,  so  he  had  lopped  off  the  last  joint,  and 
now  had  as  neat  a  workin'  name  as  any  one,  although  Horace 
still  insisted  on  usin'  the  whole  outfit  when  he  had  occa- 
sion to  address  him.  Well,  neither  me  nor  The  felt  just 
easy  in  our  minds  at  snoopin'  about  Ty's  when  we  had  n't 
any  business  to,  especially  The;  but  Horace  was  as  self- 


292  FRIAR    TUCK 

composed  as  though  he  was  herdin'  lions  out  o'  tall  grass, 
which  it  seems  had  been  his  favorite  pastime  durin'  the  last 
few  years. 

The  knew  the  ravine  well ;  he  said  it  ran  full  o'  water  in 
the  spring,  but  after  that  was  dry  all  the  year.  We  got 
about  half-way  down  it,  an'  then  we  came  to  a  path  'at  was 
plain  enough  to  see.  The  stopped  an'  wagged  his  head. 
"  No  one  ever  used  to  use  this,"  sez  he. 

"  Well,  some  one  uses  it  purty  constant,  now,"  sez  I. 

"  The  woman  is  the  one  who  uses  it,"  sez  Horace.  "  She  's 
lonely,  that 's  plain  enough.  The  path  climbs  the  opposite 
bank  —  let 's  cross  an'  go  up." 

Me  an'  The  bucked  at  this  for  some  time;  but  Horace 
hung  out ;  so  we  went  along  with  him.  We  finally  came  to 
a  little  glen  with  a  spring  in  it,  an'  grass,  and  in  a  little  clump 
o'  small  trees,  we  came  across  a  book  lyin'  face  down  on  a 
Navajo  blanket. 

"  That 's  gettin'  close,"  sez  Horace. 

"  Yes !  "  sez  we,  in  low  tones. 

We  scouted  all  around;  but  no  one  was  there,  an'  then 
we  took  a  line  on  the  hill  back  of  us,  picked  out  a  likely  spot, 
and  returned  the  way  we  had  come,  this  bein'  the  only  direct 
way.  We  did  n't  meet  a  soul  —  at  least  none  wearin'  bodies, 
though  from  the  creepy  feelin'  I  had  part  of  the  time,  I  won't 
ever  be  certain  we  did  n't  meet  any  souls. 

Next  day,  we  circled  the  peak  and  got  up  to  the  spot  we 
had  picked  out.  We  could  see  the  clump  o'  trees  plain 
enough ;  and  along  about  three  in  the  afternoon,  we  saw  the 
woman  come  up  the  path,  walkin'  slow  an'  actin'  weary.  She 
had  two  big  dogs  with  her,  and  whenever  she  'd  stop  to  rest 
a  bit,  she  'd  pet  'em.  "  Well,"  sez  The,  "  things  has  changed 
a  heap  when  ol'  Ty  Jones  stands  for  havin'  his  dogs  patted." 


TY    JONES    GETS    A    WOMAN       293 

We  could  n't  get  a  good  view  of  her  face  from  where  we 
were,  but  we  could  get  a  fine  view  o'  the  ranch  buildin's. 
The'  did  n't  seem  to  be  much  work  on  hand,  and  we  saw  eight 
or  ten  men  foolin'  around  an'  pretendin'  to  do  chores.  The 
recognized  the  two  Greasers  he  had  been  ridin'  with  the  day 
he  had  pulled  on  Horace,  and  one  or  two  others ;  but  most 
of  'em  was  strangers  to  him.  He  said  the  Greasers  were 
about  the  most  devilish  speciments  he  had  ever  herded  with 
—  an'  Ty's  whole  outfit  was  made  up  o'  fellers  who  had 
qualified  to  wear  hemp. 

Horace  was  keen  to  go  on  down  to  her  an'  get  a  good  look ; 
but  me  an'  The  took  the  bits  in  our  teeth  at  this.  We  knew 
what  those  dogs  were  like,  an'  refused  pointblank  to  go 
a  peg  unless  he  could  think  up  a  good  enough  excuse  for  us 
to  give  to  Ty  Jones  —  and  we  would  n't  let  Horace  go  down 
alone. 

"  The  best  plan  I  can  see,"  sez  I,  pointin'  to  a  cluster  o'  big 
rocks  down  the  slope  to  the  left,  "  is  to  circle  back  to  those 
rocks.  We  can  see  her  face  plain  from  there  when  she  comes 
back  the  path." 

After  examinin'  this  plan  we  decided  it  was  the  best ;  but 
when  we  went  after  our  bosses,  Horace's  had  broke  his  reins 
an'  gone  back  through  the  hills.  By  the  time  me  an'  The 
had  rounded  him  up,  it  was  too  late,  so  we  had  to  wait  till 
next  day. 

Next  day  I  left  the  other  two  at  our  first  look-out  and  rode 
on  to  the  new  one.  As  soon  as  she  came  in  sight,  I  waved  my 
hat  to  'em  and  they  sneaked  down  to  the  bunch  o'  rocks.  I 
rode  back  an'  left  my  hoss  with  theirs,  an'  then  joined  'em. 

She  didn't  come  into  view  till  after  five  o'clock.  When 
she  reached  the  edge  of  the  ravine  an'  started  down,  she 
paused  an'  looked  off  into  the  valley  with  her  face  in  plain 


294  FRIAR    TUCK 

view.  Horace  looked  at  it  through  his  glasses,  gave  a  start, 
and  then  handed  the  glasses  to  The.  "  Have  you  ever  seen 
any  one  who  looked  like  her  ?  "  sez  he. 

The  looked  and  broke  out  into  a  regular  expression. 
"  That 's  the  original  of  the  photograph  I  had,"  sez  he. 

"  That 's  the  Friar's  girl,  sure  as  the  sky  's  above  us,"  sez 
Horace. 

I  grabbed  the  glass  and  took  a  look.  She  did  look  like  the 
picture,  but  older  and  more  careworn.  Some  way  I  had 
allus  thought  o'  the  Friar's  girl  as  bein'  young  and  full  of 
high  spirits,  with  her  head  thrown  back  an'  her  eyes 
dancin';  but  just  as  I  looked  through  the  glasses,  she 
pressed  her  hands  to  her  head,  and  her  face  was  wrinkled 
with  pain.  She  was  better  lookin'  than  common,  but  most 
unhappy. 

"  That  devil,  Ty  Jones,  is  mean  to  her ! "  I  growled  be- 
tween my  teeth. 

"  Dogs  or  no  dogs,  I  'm  goin'  down  to  have  a  talk  with 
her,"  sez  Horace. 

He  started  to  get  up,  but  I  pulled  him  back  to  the  ground. 
I  had  kept  my  eyes  on  her,  and  had  seen  the  two  dogs  turn 
their  heads  down  the  ravine,  and  her  own  head  turn  with 
a  jerk,  as  though  some  one  had  called  to  her.  Horace  looked 
through  the  glasses  again,  and  said  he  could  see  her  lips 
move  as  though  talkin'  to  some  one,  and  then  she  went  down 
into  the  ravine.  We  could  n't  see  the  bottom  of  the  ravine 
from  where  we  were,  nor  we  could  n't  see  the  ranch  build- 
in's;  so  we  hustled  back  through  some  washes  to  our 
look-out,  and  reached  it  just  as  she  and  Ty  came  out  at  the 
bottom. 

They  were  walkin'  side  by  side,  but  Horace,  who  was 
lookin'  through  the  glasses,  said  they  seemed  to  be  quarrelin'. 


TY    JONES    GETS    A    WOMAN       295 

"  It 's  moonlight  to-night,"  sez  Horace,  "  and  I  'm  goin'  to 
sneak  down  and  try  to  see  her." 

We  argued  again'  it  all  we  could,  but  he  stood  firm;  so 
all  we  could  do  was  to  sit  there  and  wait  for  the  lights  to 
go  out  in  the  bunk-house.  As  she  was  a  reader,  we  figured 
'at  she  'd  be  the  last  one  to  turn  in ;  normal  habits  an'  appe- 
tites not  havin'  much  effect  on  book-readers 


CHAPTER  THIRTY-ONE 

JUSTICE   UNDELAYED 

HUMAN  emotions  are  like  clocks:  some  of  'em  will  run 
longer  'n  others ;  but  they  '11  all  run  down  unless  they  're 
wound  up  again  every  so  often.  Even  fear  will  only  run 
so  long,  as  several  late-lamented  bullies  have  been  forced 
to  learn  just  before  they  passed  over  the  Great  Divide.  After 
you  've  scared  a  feller  as  bad  as  he  can  get,  it  is  well  enough 
to  let  him  alone.  If  you  keep  on  addin'  horror  onto  horror, 
his  fear  is  likely  to  run  down ;  and  the  chances  are  'at  he  '11 
get  irritated,  and  slaughter  ya. 

I  don't  know  whether  or  not  patience  can  rightly  be  called 
an  emotion;  but  anyway,  mine  runs  down  a  little  easier  'n 
airy  other  o'  my  faculties,  and  sittin'  up  in  the  chill  an' 
waitin'  for  a  lot  o'  festive  fools  to  go  to  bed,  allus  was  just 
the  sort  o'  thing  to  disgust  me.  Those  Cross-branders 
did  n't  seem  to  have  any  more  use  for  shut-eye  that  night 
than  a  convention  o'  owls.  Some  of  'em  rode  off  at  dusk, 
but  more  of  'em  arrived,  and  they  held  some  sort  of  high 
jinks  in  the  bunk-house,  till  I  began  to  talk  back  at  myself 
loud  enough  for  all  to  hear.  It  was  full  moon  an'  we  could 
see  dogs  loafin'  an'  fightin'  down  at  the  ranch,  the  light  in 
the  new  cabin  was  the  first  to  go  out,  an'  for  the  life  of  me, 
I  could  n't  see  where  we  had  a  single  pair  to  stay  on ;  but 
Horace  seemed  to  accumulate  obstinacy  with  every  breath 
he  drew.  The  sided  with  me,  but  criticizin'  Horace  went 


JUSTICE    UNDELAYED  297 

again'  his  religion,  so  he  did  n't  make  any  more  uproar  than 
a  gnat  fight. 

Finally  I  calmed  down  until  I  could  stretch  each  word  out 
a  full  breath  an'  sez  in  my  doviest  voice :  "  Horace,  will  you 
kindly  tell  me  what  in  hell  you  intend  to  do  ?  " 

He  studied  the  situation  careful,  and  took  all  the  time 
he  needed  to  do  it.  "  I  'm  goin'  back  to  camp,"  sez  he. 
"  To-morrow  night  they  '11  be  sleepy,  and  we  '11  have  the 
whole  place  to  ourselves." 

"  Hurrah  for  hot  weather !  Greece  has  finally  melted !  " 
I  yelled,  an'  we  hustled  for  our  ponies. 

I  have  a  buck-skin  riggin'  I  put  on  the  bridle  of  a  hoss 
who  gets  into  the  evil  way  of  steppin'  on  his  reins;  and  I 
had  fixed  one  on  Horace's  hoes  to  bring  him  back  to  his 
senses  should  he  attempt  to  play  the  same  trick  he  had 
worked  on  us  the  day  before.  When  a  hoss  wearin'  one  o' 
these  contrivances  steps  on  his  reins  it  pinches  his  ears, 
down  close  to  his  head  where  they  're  tender,  and  generally 
works  a  reformation  in  short  order. 

We  forgot  all  about  this,  and  when  Horace  jumped  into 
his  saddle,  he  gave  a  jerk  on  the  reins  —  and  got  bucked 
into  a. clump  o'  cactus.  The  hoss  didn't  try  any  runnin', 
though,  which  proves  he  had  learned  a  proper  respect  for 
trailin'  reins.  Still,  Horace  was  n't  quite  in  the  mood  to  see 
the  beauty  o'  my  method,  so  he  insisted  upon  my  swappin' 
hosses  with  him.  It  was  a  good  two-hours'  ride  to  Olaf 's, 
and  by  the  time  we  had  changed  saddles,  and  I  had  con- 
vinced the  pony  that  his  idees  of  buckin'  were  childish  an' 
fu-tile,  and  his  show  of  temper  had  only  given  him  a  hun- 
dred an'  ninety  pounds  to  carry  instead  of  a  hundred  an' 
twenty,  it  was  after  nine  o'clock. 

We  were  hungry  enough  to  call  for  speed;    but  still  it 


298  FRIAR    TUCK 

was  eleven  by  the  time  we  reached  the  Spread.  We  thought 
we  had  seen  a  horseman  go  into  it  from  the  other  direction ; 
but  the  moon  had  ducked  under  a  cloud  and  we  could  n't 
be  certain. 

We  didn't  intend  to  waken  Kit  if  we  could  help  it;  so 
we  started  to  put  the  hosses  into  the  corral  as  quiet  as  pos- 
sible. Just  as  we  had  thrown  our  saddles  over  the  top  bar, 
we  heard  a  commotion  from  the  cabin,  and  started  for  it 
on  the  run. 

There  was  n't  any  light  in  the  cabin ;  but  we  heard  Kit 
screamin',  and  before  we  arrived,  we  saw  a  man  rush 
around  the  corner  just  as  the  door  was  flung  open,  and  two 
other  men  jumped  towards  him  from  the  inside.  These  two 
had  knives  in  their  hands ;  and  the  man  outside  took  a  step 
back.  They  rushed  him,  but  he  hit  one  with  his  right  fist, 
and  the  other  with  his  left,  and  curled  'em  both  up  again' 
the  side  o'  the  house  in  a  way  to  make  a  feller's  heart  dance 
for  joy.  Then  we  saw  it  was  the  Friar  himself,  and  we 
gave  a  whoop. 

Kit  had  banged  the  door  shut,  put  up  the  bar,  got  a 
rifle  and  made  ready  for  what  was  to  come  next;  but 
when  she  heard  our  whoop,  she  put  on  her  wrapper 
and  opened  the  door.  The  two  men  'at  the  Friar  had 
crumpled  up  were  those  same  two  Greasers  'at  The 
had  told  us  were  the  meanest  pair  he  had  ever  herded 
with. 

We  took  'em  by  the  heels  an'  straighened  'em  out,  while 
Kit  indulged  in  a  few  little  hystericals.  The  Friar  had  allus 
been  a  great  hand  to  expound  upon  moral  force  an'  spiritual 
force,  and  such  items,  and  now  when  the  two  Greasers 
refused  to  come  back  an'  claim  their  own  bodies,  he  got  a 
little  fidgetty. 


JUSTICE    UNDELAYED  299 

"  Friar,"  I  sez,  "  I  give  in  to  you.  Your  quiet  way  o' 
lettin'  the  right  work  out  its  own  salvation  is  the  surest  way 
I  know;  and  in  an  emergency  like  this,  it  does  full  as  well 
as  violence." 

The  Friar  wasn't  in  no  mood  for  hilarity,  though;  so 
after  gettin'  their  weapons  an'  tyin'  'em  up,  we  soused  the 
Greasers  with  water,  and  brought  'em  back  to  give  an  ac- 
count o'  themselves,  Kit  all  the  time  tellin'  us  what  had 
happened. 

It  seems  'at  Kit  had  been  hoein'  in  her  beloved  garden 
that  day  an'  had  been  purty  tired  at  night;  so  after  waitin' 
for  us  until  she  got  exasperated,  she  had  eaten  her  own  sup- 
per, put  ours  on  the  table,  an'  turned  in.  Olaf  had  put  up 
another  cabin  the  same  size  as  his  first.  He  had  put  'em 
side  by  side  with  a  porch  joinin'  at  their  eaves.  In  one 
cabin  was  the  dinin'  room  an'  kitchen,  all  in  one,  and  in  the 
other  was  the  bedroom  an'  settin'  room. 

Kit  had  heard  a  noise  in  the  settin'  room  and  had  opened 
the  door  before  she  was  full  awake,  thinkin'  it  was  the  dog 
or  cat.  The  minute  she  had  opened  the  door  they  had 
grabbed  her,  and  she  had  begun  to  scream.  They  shut  off 
her  wind  a  little ;  but  they  was  n't  rough  with  her  —  quite 
the  contrary.  They  leered  into  her  eyes,  and  patted  her  on 
the  shoulders,  and  made  queer,  gurglin'  noises  in  their  dirty 
brown  throats;  but  they  didn't  speak  to  her,  not  one 
word. 

Kit  was  strong,  an'  she  had  fought  'em  to  a  standstill  for 
what  she  thinks  was  twenty  minutes,  at  least;  but  she  was 
beginnin'  to  weaken.  One  of  'em  kept  his  arm  about  her 
neck,  and  whenever  she  tried  to  scream,  shut  off  her  wind. 
She  had  heard  the  Friar's  hoss  nicker  when  he  opened  the 
first  pole  gate,  and  this  provided  her  with  enough  moral 


300  FRIAR    TUCK 

courage  to  sink  her  teeth  into  the  wrist  of  the  arm  about  her 
neck.  The  feller  had  give  a  yell,  and  struck  her;  but  at 
the  same  time,  she  had  opened  up  a  scream  of  her  own  which 
loosened  things  all  over  the  neighborhood. 

The  Friar  had  first  put  for  the  settin'  room  door ;  but  they 
had  locked  this  door  on  the  inside,  intendin'  to  go  out  the 
side  door.  He  savvied  this  so  he  dove  into  the  porch-way 
between  the  two  cabins,  and  made  a  rattlin'  on  this  door. 
They  had  paused  at  this ;  but  he  had  to  rattle  several  times 
before  they  took  down  the  front  bar.  We  had  been  fordin' 
the  crick  about  this  time. 

The  Greasers  had  tried  to  get  out  the  window  once ;  but 
Kit  had  called  out  what  they  were  up  to ;  so  they  had  turned 
on  her  an'  choked  and  beat  her  scandalous. 

This  was  Kit's  side,  and  by  the  time  she  had  finished  tellin' 
it,  the  Greasers  had  begun  to  moan  an'  toss.  The  Friar  gave 
a  sigh  of  relief,  as  soon  as  they  came  to  enough  to  begin 
grittin'  their  teeth.  I  sat  'em  up  with  their  backs  again'  the 
side  of  the  cabin,  and  intimated  that  we  were  ready  to  receive 
their  last  words. 

We  had  to  encourage  'em  a  bit,  one  way  or  another ;  but 
we  finally  got  out  of  'em  that  they  had  poisoned  the  dog, 
and  then  cut  a  crack  in  the  door  till  they  could  raise  the 
bar.  They  said  'at  Ty  Jones  had  n't  had  no  hand  in  plannin' 
their  trip ;  but  had  offered  'em  a  hundred  apiece  if  they 
could  put  Olaf  in  the  mood  of  wishin'  he  had  sold  out 
peaceable. 

"  Well,"  sez  I,  as  soon  as  they  were  through,  "  shall  we 
finish  with  'em  to-night,  or  give  'em  till  to-morrow  to 
repent  ?  " 

"  We  shall  of  course  deliver  them  to  the  proper  officials  to 
be  tried  by  due  process  of  law,"  sez  the  Friar. 


JUSTICE    UNDELAYED  301 

"  What  for?  "  sez  I.  "  Ya  never  can  tell  how  a  trial  will 
turn  out;  but  we  know  'at  they  have  forfeited  the  right 
to  live;  so  we  '11  just  give  'em  what  they  've  earned  and  save 
all  fuss." 

"  No  good  ever  comes  of  men  taking  the  law  into  their 
own  hands,"  sez  the  Friar  firmly. 

"  How  come,  then,  that  you  did  n't  run  an'  tell  some 
justice  o'  the  peace,  'at  these  two  snakes  was  actin'  disre- 
spectful —  instead  of  knockin'  'em  up  again'  the  logs  ? " 
sez  I. 

"  I  should  have  done  so  if  I  had  had  time,"  sez  the  Friar 
with  dignity. 

"  Well,  you  're  better  trained  'n  we  are,"  sez  I ;  "  but  it 
still  takes  a  little  time  for  you  to  make  your  hands  mind  your 
self-control,  after  you  've  been  het  up.  You  can  do  it  in 
ten  minutes,  say;  but  it  takes  us  about  a  week,  and  by  that 
time  the'  won't  be  any  need  for  the  law." 

"  No,"  sez  the  Friar,  "  I  insist  that  we  rely  upon  the  law. 
We  count  ourselves  as  of  the  better  element;  and  the  most 
vicious  conditions  arise  when  the  better  element  takes  the 
law  into  its  own  hands.  When  a  vicious  man  does  illegal 
violence,  it  does  not  establish  a  precedent;  but  when  the 
decent  man  does  the  same  thing,  it  tears  away  forms  of 
civilization  which  have  taken  centuries  to  construct." 

"  That  sounds  like  sense,"  sez  I ;  "  and  after  this  is  all 
over,  I  don't  mind  arguin'  it  out  with  you;  but  right  now, 
it  would  seem  to  me  that  if  we  went  to  law  about  this,  it 
would  be  because  we  wanted  to  shoulder  onto  the  law  the 
responsibility  of  doin'  what  we  feel  ought  to  be  done,  but 
which  we  have  n't  the  nerve  to  do  ourselves." 

"If  you  attempt  to  lynch  these  men,  I  shall  ride  at  once 
and  give  the  alarm,"  sez  the  Friar. 


302  FRIAR    TUCK 

"  And  when  you  came  back,  you  would  find  'em  swingin' 
from  a  limb,"  sez  I.  "  I  'm  with  you  in  most  things,  Friar, 
and  if  the'  was  a  shred  o'  doubt,  I  'd  be  with  you  in  this ; 
but  it 's  too  plain  a  case.  I  'm  willin'  to  hold  these  two  in 
secret  until  we  can  collect  a  posse  o'  twelve  to  give  'em  a 
jury  trial ;  but  this  is  the  most  I  '11  do.  Ty  Jones  has  got 
others  of  his  gang  away  from  the  law,  but  he  don't  get 
these  two  —  not  if  I  can  help  it." 

Horace  sided  with  me,  and  so  did  The,  though  he  did  n't 
have  much  to  say.  He  was  thinkin'  of  his  own  trip  to  pester 
Olaf,  and  it  came  back  to  him  purty  strong.  The  Friar 
finally  had  to  agree  not  to  notify  the  law  until  I  'd  had  time 
to  gather  up  a  posse.  I  made  Horace  promise  not  to  tell 
the  Friar  about  our  seein'  the  woman  back  at  Ty's,  saw  that 
the  Greasers  were  planted  safe  in  Olaf's  log  barn,  and  set 
out  at  once  for  the  Diamond  Dot  on  a  fresh  hoss.  I  never 
want  to  eat  none  before  startin'  a  ride  like  this. 

I  rode  all  that  night  through  the  moonlight ;  swingin'  up 
over  the  passes,  fordin'  the  rivers,  and  reachin'  the  Diamond 
Dot  at  noon  the  next  day.  I  did  n't  let  on  to  Jabez  'at  I  was 
there  at  all;  but  I  got  Spider  Kelley,  ol'  Tank  Williams, 
Tillte  Dutch,  and  Mexican  Slim  to  take  a  vacation  and  come 
on  back  with  me.  This  gave  five  for  the  jury,  as  I  did  n't  in- 
tend to  have  Horace  or  The  sit  on  it,  not  knowin'  how  far 
their  prejudice  might  prevent  'em  from  executin'  my  idee 
of  justice.  We  set  out  to  return,  about  five  o'clock,  and  rode 
into  the  Spread  at  seven  the  next  mornin'  with  eight  other 
fellers  we  had  brought  along  for  good  measure. 

Old  Jimmy  Simpson  and  his  four  grown  sons  were  in 
this  bunch,  and  I  was  purty  well  acquainted  with  'em.  I 
knew  'at  they  had  been  amply  pestered  by  Ty  Jones's  outfit, 
and  wouldn't  be  too  particular  about  what  book-law  might 


JUSTICE    UNDELAYED  303 

have  to  say  on  the  subject,  though  ol'  man  Simpson  was  up 
on  book-law.  The  other  three  were  fellers  they  knew  and 
were  willin'  to  guarantee.  We  were  all  a  little  sleepy,  so 
we  decided  to  hold  the  trial  after  dinner! 

The  Friar  had  spent  as  much  time  with  the  Greasers  as 
they  'd  stand  for ;  but  he  had  n't  made  much  impression  on 
'em.  I  knew  'at  he  was  heart-whole  in  his  attitude,  an'  I 
hated  to  cross  him;  but  this  was  a  case  o'  principle  with 
me,  so  when  we  got  ready  for  the  trial,  I  tried  to  get  him 
to  take  a  long  walk,  but  he  refused. 

We  held  the  trial  in  front  o'  the  barn,  and  it  was  as  legal 
as  any  trial  ever  was,  and  as  solemn,  too.  We  untied  the 
prisoners,  and  called  Kit  for  the  first  witness.  She  told  it 
just  as  she  had  told  it  to  us,  but  her  bruised  face  would 
have  been  all  that  was  necessary.  Then  we  called  the  Friar 
and  he  told  his  part,  and  we  let  him  make  a  speech  in  favor 
o'  law  and  order;  and  cheered  him  hearty,  too,  when  he 
got  through. 

I  had  just  begun  to  give  my  part,  when  Olaf  and  Oscar 
rode  up.  Olaf  sat  on  his  hoss  and  looked  at  us  a  moment, 
at  Kit  with  her  bruised  face,  holdin'  the  boy  in  her  arms, 
at  the  prisoners  and  us;  and  then  he  asked  the  Friar  what 
it  all  meant.  The  Friar  was  sunonomous  with  truth,  as  far 
as  Olaf  was  concerned. 

Olaf  listened  quietly,  the  dark  red  risin'  in  his  cheeks 
bein'  about  the  only  change  in  him.  When  the  Friar 
finished,  Olaf  got  off  his  hoss.  "  The'  won't  be  need  of  any 
more  trial,"  sez  he.  "  Kit,  you  go  to  the  house." 

Kit  started  for  the  house,  and  the  Friar  asked  Olaf  what 
he  intended  to  do. 

"  Kill  'em,"  sez  Olaf,  "  with  my  two  hands." 

He  unbuckled  his  belt  and  threw  it  on  the  ground,  then 


304  FRIAR    TUCK 

kicked  off  his  chaps,  and  stepped  through  the  ring  we  had 
formed.  "  Stop,"  said  the  Friar.  "  Olaf,  I  forbid  this." 

"  You  had  better  go  to  the  house,  Friar,"  said  Olaf  with 
pleadin'  in  his  voice.  "  Go  in  —  please  go  in  —  an'  comfort 
Kit." 

The  Friar  made  a  rush,  but  we  fended  him  off.  The 
Greasers  also  tried  to  make  a  get-away;  and  between  the 
three  of  'em  we  were  some  busy;  but  it  didn't  last  long. 
When  the  Greasers  saw  they  could  n't  break  our  ring,  they 
turned  on  Olaf  like  cornered  rats.  They  struck  him  and 
they  choked  him ;  but  not  once  did  he  speak,  and  whenever 
his  grip  closed  on  their  flesh,  he  ruined  that  part  forever. 
It  was  a  horrid  sight ;  but  I  could  n't  have  turned  my  eyes 
away  if  I  'd  wanted  to.  In  the  end  he  broke  their  necks, 
one  after  the  other,  and  then  he  stood  up  straight  and  wiped 
his  forehead.  "  I  take  the  blame,"  said  he.  "  I  take  all  the 
blame,  here  and  hereafter  " ;  which  certainly  was  a  square 
thing  to  do,  though  we  had  n't  counted  on  it,  any. 


CHAPTER  THIRTY-TWO 

THE   FRIAR  GOES  ALONE 

THE  Friar  had  been  in  earnest  try  in'  to  get  to  Olaf ;  so  'at 
the  four  Simpson  boys  had  finally  been  forced  to  throw,  an' 
sit  on  him.  As  soon  as  it  was  over,  they  got  up  and  apolo- 
gized, offerin'  to  let  him  take  out  any  spite  on  'em  he  saw 
fit,  and  promisin'  not  to  feel  any  ill-will;  but  the  Friar 
was  n't  angry.  He  was  hurt  and  sad  to  think  'at  we  'd  do 
such  a  thing;  but  he  had  no  resentment  towards  us. 

"  I  know  most  of  you  men  well,"  said  he ;  "  and  I  know 
you  have  done  this  because  you  felt  it  was  right.  I  don't 
put  you  on  one  side  and  myself  on  the  other.  I  take  my 
full  share  o'  the  blame.  It  merely  proves  that  my  influence 
with  you  during  the  many  years  we  have  been  together  has 
not  been  for  the  best,  and  I  am  very  sorry  to  learn  how  poor 
my  work  has  been." 

'  He  turned  and  went  up  to  the  house;  and  we  all  felt 
nearly  as  bad  about  the  way  he  had  taken  it  as  though  the 
confounded  Greasers  had  got  away  altogether.  We  talked 
it  over  and  finally  loaded  their  bodies  into  Olaf's  wagon, 
and  hauled  'em  up  on  the  rim,  where  we  buried  'em  and 
heaped  a  lot  o'  stones  over  'em.  We  began  to  feel  better 
after  this,  and  shook  hands  all  around,  and  the  Simpsons 
and  their  three  friends  rode  away. 

Then  we  told  the  others  about  havin'  seen  the  Friar's  girl 
at  Ty  Jones's  and  held  a  council  as  to  how  we  should  tell 
him.  We  finally  delegated  Horace  to  do  it,  though  he  was  n't 


3o6  FRIAR    TUCK 

ambitious  for  the  job.  The  Friar  had  told  Kit  that  it  was 
all  over,  and  had  left  to  take  a  walk  without  eatin'  any 
supper.  We  still  felt  purty  low-spirited,  and  we  did  n't  eat 
much  ourselves ;  though  we  felt  certain  he  would  n't  bother 
his  head  much  about  a  couple  o'  Greasers,  as  soon  as  he 
found  out  his  own  girl  was  Ty  Jones's  woman. 

The  boys  had  come  light  from  the  Diamond  Dot,  but 
Horace  had  outfitted  way  beyond  his  needs,  intendin'  to  do 
consid'able  campin'  around,  and  Olaf  also  had  a  couple  of 
extra  tarps  and  plenty  o'  beddin';  so  we  fixed  up  our  old 
bunk-shack  which  had  been  left  standin',  and  settled  down 
as  though  the  interval  between  our  previous  visit  had  n't 
been  more  'n  ten  days. 

The  Friar  came  back  about  ten  o'clock.  He  came  into  our 
shack  as  quiet  as  he  could ;  but  Horace  was  sittin'  before  the 
fire  waitin'  for  him.  It  was  a  warm  night;  but  we  had 
built  the  fire  to  make  it  a  little  more  cheerful,  and  had  left 
the  door  wide  open.  Horace  saw  the  Friar  the  minute  he 
reached  the  doorway,  and  he  got  up  and  went  outside  with 
him. 

They  were  gone  nearly  an  hour,  and  then  Horace  sneaked 
in,  and  wakened  me  up.  I  follered  him  outside;  and  he 
said  that  the  Friar  intended  to  ride  down  to  see  Ty  Jones 
as  soon  as  it  was  day,  and  that  he  insisted  on  ridin'  alone. 
The  Friar  was  walkin'  up  and  down  in  the  moonlight,  his 
face  was  all  twisted  up,  through  his  tryin'  to  hold  it  calm, 
when  I  took  my  turn  at  reasonin'  with  him ;  but  it  was  n't 
any  use. 

"  Well,  you  '11  not  go  alone,"  I  said  at  last ;  "  and  you  can 
make  up  your  mind  to  that  now.  We  don't  know  how  much 
Ty  already  knows  about  our  puttin'  the  Greasers  out  o'  the 
game,  and  we  don't  know  how  much  of  it  he  '11  lay  to  you ; 


THE    FRIAR    GOES    ALONE         307 

but  we  do  know  that  he  hates  you,  and  would  wipe  your 
name  off  the  list  the  first  good  chance  he  had.  I  'm  goin' 
along." 

The  Friar  was  hot;  we  stood  there  in  the  moonlight 
facin'  each  other  and  takin'  each  other's  measures.  He  was 
a  shade  taller  and  some  heavier  'n  I  was ;  and  ya  could  see 
'at  he  'd  have  given  right  smart  to  have  felt  free  to  mix 
it  with  me.  "  Do  you  think  I  'm  a  baby  ?  "  he  burst  out. 
"  Do  you  think  'at  I  'm  not  fit  to  be  trusted  out  o'  your  sight  ? 
You  take  entirely  too  much  on  yourself,  Happy  Hawkins ! " 

I  did  n't  want  to  taunt  him  to  hurt  him  —  I  'd  rather  been 
kicked  by  a  hoss  than  to  do  this  —  but  I  did  want  to  arouse 
him  to  a  sense  o'  the  truth.  "  You  have  adjusted  yourself  to 
this  locality  purty  well,  Friar,"  sez  I ;  "  but  the's  still  a  lot 
you  don't  quite  savvy.  Some  cases  must  be  settled  by  a 
man  himself,  but  some  must  be  left  to  the  law.  If  this 
woman  is  the  wife  o'  Ty  Jones,  he  has  the  law  on  his  side." 

He  turned  from  me  and  stamped  off  into  the  night  with 
his  hands  clenched.  He  disappeared  in  the  cottonwoods, 
and  I  was  just  beginnin'  to  wonder  if  I  had  n't  better  foller 
him,  when  he  came  back  again.  "  Oh,  I  've  been  a  fool, 
I  Ve  been  a  fool !  "  he  cried.  "  All  my  life  I  have  tried  not 
to  judge  others,  but  all  my  life  I  have  judged  them.  I 
have  tried  to  put  myself  in  their  place,  but  allus  I  judged 
and  condemned  them  for  giving  way  to  temptations  which 
I  felt  that  I,  in  their  place,  could  have  resisted.  I  have  been 
a  fool,  and  I  still  am  a  fool.  I  admit  that  you  are  right,  and 
I  am  wrong  —  but,  I  am  going  to  Ty  Jones's  at  dawn,  and 
I  'm  goin'  alone." 

Well,  that  settled  it  —  me  an'  the  Friar  had  to  buck  each 
other  again.  He  continued  to  stalk  up  an'  down  through 
moonlight  and  shadow ;  while  I  tried  to  plan  a  way  to  head 


3o8  FRIAR    TUCK 

him  off.  I  was  dead  sleepy,  but  I  went  around  and  wakened 
up  all  the  other  fellers,  and  told  'em  not  to  get  up  in  the 
mornin'  until  called;  next  I  got  Tank  to  help  me,  and  we 
waited  until  the  Friar  had  walked  in  the  opposite  direction, 
and  then  we  took  the  ponies  out  o'  the  corral  and  headed  'em 
toward  the  hills.  The  farther  we  got,  the  rougher  with  'em 
we  got,  and  then  we  turned  our  own  mounts  loose,  and  sent 
'em  after  the  bunch.  It  was  a  big  job  to  pack  our  saddles 
back  on  our  heads,  but  we  did  it,  and  tore  down  the  fences 
to  pertend  'at  the  ponies  had  vamoosed  on  their  own  hook. 
Horace  was  walkin'  with  the  Friar  now,  arguin'  the  benefit 
of  a  little  sleep,  so  'at  he  'd  be  at  his  best.  After  a  time 
the  Friar  did  go  to  bed  in  Horace's  tarp  in  the  corner. 

I  did  n't  wake  up  till  after  seven,  myself,  and  all  the 
fellers  were  pertendin'  to  sleep  as  though  it  was  n't  more  'n 
three.  The  Friar  did  n't  wake  up  till  eight.  He  was  beside 
himself  when  he  found  the  ponies  gone;  but  he  ate  break- 
fast as  calm  as  he  could,  and  then  set  out  with  us  to  wrangle 
in  some  hosses  on  foot. 

Coin*  after  hosses  on  foot  is  sufficiently  irritatin'  to  a 
ridin'  outfit  to  make  it  easy  enough  to  believe  'at  this  was 
all  an  accident,  and  we  did  n't  come  up  with  the  ponies  till 
nearly  noon.  When  we  cornered  'em  up,  I  never  in  my  life 
saw  as  much  poor  ropin',  nor  as  much  good  actin' ;  but  we 
finally  got  enough  gentle  ones  to  ride  bareback,  so  we  could 
wrangle  in  the  rest;  and  after  a  quick  lunch,  the  Friar 
started  to  make  his  hoss  ready. 

We  all  started  along  with  him.  He  stopped  and  faced 
on  us,  givin'  us  a  long,  cold  look-over.  You  can  say  all  you 
want  to  again'  swearin',  but  the's  times  when  it  springs  out 
of  its  own  accord  in  a  man,  as  natural  and  beautiful  and 
satisfyin'  as  the  flowers  blossom  forth  on  the  cactus  plants ; 


THE    FRIAR    GOES    ALONE         309 

and  I  have  n't  a  shred  of  doubt  that  if  the  Friar  had  handed 
us  some  o'  the  remarks  that  came  ready-framed  to  his  tongue 
just  then,  they  'd  have  been  well  worth  storin'  up  for  future 
needs ;  but  all  he  did  was  to  fold  his  arms,  and  say :  "  Your 
methods  are  not  my  methods.  I  am  not  goin'  there  to  start 
trouble,  and  I  do  not  even  wish  to  give  them  the  slightest 
excuse  to  start  it  of  their  own  vo-lition.  If  you  are  my 
friends,  you  will  respect  my  wishes." 

"  Well,  but  you  '11  take  at  least  one  of  us  along,  won't  ya, 
Friar?"  sez  ol'  Tank.  "  Likely  as  not  we  wouldn't  take  it 
up,  nohow ;  but  still  if  they  made  away  with  ya,  we  'd  sort 
o'  like  to  know  about  it  as  early  as  possible,  in  order  not  to 
feel  suspensed  any  longer  'n  was  necessary." 

"  I  should  like  to  take  one  man  along  as  a  guide,  as  I  am 
not  entirely  familiar  with  the  trail  from  here,"  sez  the  Friar, 
still  talkin'  to  us  as  though  we  were  a  lot  of  evil-lookin' 
strangers.  "If  one  of  you  were  to  go  along  until  we  came 
within  sight  o'  the  ranch  buildin's —  No,  they  might  see 
him  and  get  the  idee  that  he  had  gone  back  to  join  a  reserve 
body,  and  I  do  not  wish  them  to  have  the  slightest  grounds 
for  resorting  to  force  on  their  side.  I  shall  have  to  go 
alone." 

"  I  can  see  what  you  've  been  drivin'  at,  now,"  sez  Tank, 
whose  face  was  so  muddled  up  that  no  one  ever  tried  to  read 
his  thoughts  in  his  features,  and  so  he  could  lie  with  im- 
punity. "  Yes,  I  can  see  what  you  mean,  now,  and  I  got  to 
own  up  'at  you're  right  about  it.  Still,  you  know,  Friar, 
we  're  bound  to  worry  about  ya.  How  long  do  you  want 
us  to  wait  before  we  start  to  projectin'  around  to  get  some" 
news  of  ya?" 

A  look  of  relief  came  to  the  Friar's  face:  "Why,  if  I 
don't  come  back  within  a  week,"  sez  he,  "  I  have  n't  any 


3io  FRIAR    TUCK 

objections  to  your  notify  in'  the  legal  authorities  that  you 
fear  something  has  happened  to  me  —  but  don't  make  much 
fuss,  for  it  does  n't  really  matter." 

We  all  kicked  about  waitin'  a  week,  but  finally  compro- 
mised on  five  days  as  bein'  about  the  right  interval  to  allow 
before  notifyin'  the  legal  authorities.  Then  we  advised 
the  Friar  to  go  down  by  the  ravine  as  it  would  take  him  to 
the  ranch  by  the  back  way  where  he  would  n't  be  so  likely 
to  attract  attention,  especially  from  the  dogs. 

He  asked  Horace  to  ride  with  him  until  he  could  get  a 
landmark ;  so  Horace  flung  his  saddle  on  a  hoss  an'  started 
along,  while  the  rest  of  us  made  ready  to  go  trout-fishin', 
or  take  a  snooze,  or  shake  the  cards,  accordin'  to  the  way 
we  generally  amused  ourselves  when  loafin'.  The  Friar 
turned  back  once  on  the  pretense  that  he  wanted  to  get  a 
good  drink  o'  water  before  startin' ;  but  he  found  us  scat- 
tered out  peaceful  an'  resigned,  so  he  headed  away  at  good 
speed. 

Horace  took  him  the  open  road,  while  we  went  mostly 
through  cuts,  the  way  we  had  allus  gone  to  our  look-out. 
Our  way  was  some  the  longer;  but  we  pushed  our  hosses 
a  little  more,  and  made  the  look-out  just  as  the  Friar  reached 
the  point  where  the  path  went  down  into  the  ravine.  Horace 
had  agreed  to  do  all  he  could  to  get  the  Friar  to  go  up 
to  the  clump  of  bushes  where  the  woman  spent  her 
afternoons,  though  he  said  he  doubted  if  the  Friar  would 
do  it. 

I  had  the  field  glasses  with  me,  and  kept  'em  on  the  Friar's 
face  when  he  paused  to  examine  the  spot  and  make  sure  he 
was  right.  He  could  n't  see  the  ranch  buildin's  from  where 
he  was,  nor  the  path  leadin'  to  the  clump  of  trees.  I  could 
see  his  face  plain  through  the  glasses,  and  he  had  taken  the 


THE    FRIAR    GOES    ALONE         311 

guy  ropes  off  and  let  it  sag  into  just  the  way  he  felt.  It  was 
filled  with  pain  an'  sufferin'. 

As  soon  as  Horace  came,  he  and  I  sneaked  down  to  the 
bunch  o'  big  rocks  from  which  we  could  see  the  path  as  it 
dipped  from  the  opposite  edge  of  the  ravine,  leavin'  the  rest 
of  the  boys  to  watch  the  ranch  buildin's.  We  could  see  them 
from  where  we  were,  and  they  could  see  us,  and  we  had  a 
signal  for  us  to  come  back,  or  them  to  come  to  us ;  and  an- 
other that  the  Friar  was  gettin'  it  bad  down  below,  and  to 
make  a  rush  for  him.  We  hadn't  seen  any  one  about  the 
buildin's,  except  the  Chinese  cook.  Our  plan  was  to  not  rush 
the  buildin's  right  away,  unless  we  saw  the  Friar  gettin'  man- 
handled beyond  his,  endurance.  Horace  said  'at  the  Friar 
had  refused  to  go  to  the  clump  o'  trees  to  see  the  woman, 
as  it  might  give  the  impression  that  she  had  sent  word  to 
him  to  meet  her  there,  and  he  would  n't  cast  the  slightest 
suspicion  upon  her  name. 

"  Horace,"  I  said,  as  an  awful  fear  struck  me,  "  supposin' 
after  all,  it  ain't  the  right  woman !  " 

Horace's  eyes  stuck  out  like  the  tail  lights  on  a  freight 
caboose.  "  Oh,  I  'm  sure  it 's  the  same  woman,"  sez  he. 
"  Course  she  's  changed  some ;  but  we  could  n't  all  three 
be  mistaken." 

"  I  still  think  it 's  the  same  woman,"  sez  I ;  "  but  as  far 
as  all  three  not  bein'  mistaken,  the's  nothin'  to  that.  Half 
o'  the  fellers  who  make  bets  are  mistaken,  and  most  of  us 
make  bets.  Still  I  think  she 's  the  same  woman." 

In  spite  of  this  doubt,  I  was  feelin'  purty  comfortable. 
The  other  time  we  had  been  there,  I  hadn't  been  able  to 
think  up  any  excuse  as  to  why ;  but  this  time  I  felt  I  was 
in  right  and  it  left  me  free  to  enjoy  the  prospects  of  a  little 
excitement.  I  allus  try  to  be  honest  with  myself ;  and  when 


3i2  FRIAR    TUCK 

I  'm  elated  up  over  anything,  I  generally  aim  to  trail  back 
my  feelin's  to  their  exact  cause.  I  'm  bound  to  admit  that 
when  I  'm  certain  that  any  trouble  likely  to  arise  will  be 
thrust  upon  me  in  spite  of  my  own  moral  conduct,  I  allus 
take  a  pleasant  satisfaction  in  waitin'  for  it. 

The  Friar  slid  his  hoss  down  the  bank  o'  the  ravine,  and 
disappeared  just  a  few  moments  before  we  saw  the  woman 
comin'  along  the  path  from  the  clump  of  trees.  We  kept 
glancin'  up  at  the  look-out  now  and  again,  but  mostly  we 
glued  our  eyes  on  the  woman.  Horace  hogged  the  field 
glasses  most  o'  the  time,  but  my  eyes  were  a  blame  sight 
better  'n  his,  so  I  did  n't  kick  about  it  much. 

When  she  reached  the  edge  o'  the  ravine,  she  paused  and 
gave  a  little  start.  "  Does  she  know  him,  Horace  ?  "  I  sez. 

"  She  don't  seem  to,"  sez  Horace.  "  She  's  speakin'  down 
at  him ;  but  her  face  looks  as  though  she  did  n't  know  him." 

"If  it 's  the  wrong  woman,"  sez  I,  "  I  'm  goin'  to  start 
to  the  North  Pole  to  locate  the  fool-killer." 

While  I  spoke,  she  started  down  the  path  slow  and  matter 
o'  fact;  and  me  an'  Horace  scuttled  back  to  the  look-out 
to  be  in  time  to  see  'em  come  out  at  the  bottom  —  providin' 
the  Friar  went  on  with  her. 

We  did  n't  get  there  more  'n  two  minutes  before  they  came 
out  at  the  bottom ;  but  it  seemed  a  week.  When  they  finally 
came  into  sight,  the  Friar  was  walkin'  an'  leadin'  his  hoss, 
and  she  was  walkin'  at  his  side  about  four  feet  from  him 
with  a  big  dog  on  each  side  of  her.  Just  then  we  saw  six 
Cross-branders  ride  in  toward  the  corral. 

"  It  looks  calm  an'  quiet,"  drawled  ol'  Tank,  his  free  eye 
bouncin'  about  like  a  rubber  ball ;  "  but  I  '11  bet  two  cookies 
again'  the  hole  in  a  doughnut  that  we  have  a  tol'able  fair 
sized  storm  before  mornin'." 


CHAPTER  THIRTY-THREE 

THE  FRIAR  GIVEN   TWO   WEEKS 

As  Friar  Tuck  and  the  woman  came  out  of  the  mouth  of  the 
ravine,  Ty  Jones  came  out  of  the  back  door  of  the  old  cabin. 
He  stopped  a  moment,  lookin'  at  'em,  rubbed  his  eyes  an' 
looked  again.  Then  he  walked  towards  'em.  He  spoke 
somethin'  to  the  Friar,  and  the  Friar  answered  it.  The 
woman  did  n't  pay  any  heed  at  all ;  but  went  around  the 
new  cabin  to  the  door  which  was  on  the  other  side.  Three 
more  Cross-branders  rode  in,  and  Ty  Jones  shook  his  fist 
at  the  Friar. 

Ol'  Tank  was  cussin'  under  his  breath  for  comfort,  but  it 
did  n't  keep  him  from  gettin'  fidgetty.  "  Is  n't  the'  no  sort 
of  a  tool,  Horace,"  he  blurted  out,  "  that  '11  stretch  out  your 
hearin'  the  way  these  field  glasses  stretch  out  your  eye- 
sight ?  I  'd  be  willin'  to  have  one  of  my  ears  run  as  wild  as 
my  free  eye,  forever  after,  if  it  could  just  hear,  now,  what 
Ty  Jones  is  a-speakin'  to  the  Friar.  I  'm  beginnin'  to  get 
nervous." 

We  all  felt  about  the  same  way;  but  it  was  about  two 
miles  down  to  where  they  were,  so  all  we  could  do  was  to 
watch. 

Olaf  had  come  with  us,  leavin'  Oscar  with  Kit,  and  now 
Horace  turned  to  him  and  said:  "You  and  Prometheus 
know  more  about  Ty  Jones  'n  the  rest  of  us.  I  have  never 
tried  to  pump  Promotheus,  but  now  I  want  you  to  tell  us 
what  you  think  he  '11  do  with  the  Friar." 


3i4  FRIAR    TUCK 

They  said  'at  Ty  was  generally  purty  cold  blooded,  and 
likely  to  take  enough  time  in  gettin'  rid  of  a  feller  to  make 
it  purty  hard  to  tell  just  how  it  had  been  done;  but  that 
when  he  once  let  go  of  himself,  he  didn't  care  what  hap- 
pened, and  if  the  Friar  angered  him  about  the  woman,  the 
chances  were  'at  the  Friar  would  never  leave  the  ranch  alive." 

The  shadows  were  beginnin'  to  fall,  down  in  the  valley; 
but  Ty  and  the  Friar  kept  on  talkin',  Ty  wavin'  his  hands 
now  and  again,  while  the  Friar  stood  straight  with  his  hands 
hangin'  easy  at  his  side.  I  could  n't  stand  it  any  longer. 

"  I  believe  'at  a  feller  could  get  almost  to  'em  without 
bein'  seen,  by  goin'  along  the  edge  o'  the  ravine,"  sez  I; 
"  and  I  'm  goin'  to  do  it.  It  '11  be  dark  in  a  few  minutes. 
If  you  want  me  to  hustle  to  the  Friar,  wave  a  torch  up  and 
down ;  if  you  want  me  to  come  back  here,  wave  it  sideways." 

"  I  'm  goin',  too,"  sez  Horace. 

"  So  'm  I,"  sez  Olaf  and  The. 

"  Well,  that 's  full  enough,"  sez  I,  "  and  the  rest  of  ya  keep 
a  sharp  watch,  and  also  keep  the  hosses  ready,  in  case  we 
need  'em." 

The  four  of  us  started  down  the  side  o'  the  slope  at  good 
speed.  There  were  only  two  places  on  the  way  down  where 
we  caught  sight  o'  the  ranch  buildin's;  but  just  before  we 
reached  the  top  o'  the  cliff,  we  heard  a  sound  down  below  in 
the  ravine.  Glancin'  cautious  over  the  side,  I  saw  the  Friar 
comin'  back  alone,  on  foot  and  leadin'  his  hoss. 

I  drew  back  and  whispered  to  the  others,  and  we  felt 
purty  blame  cheap.  We  hardly  knew  what  to  do,  as  the 
Friar  was  likely  to  see  us  if  we  tried  to  run  back  to  our 
look-out  before  he  reached  the  place  where  the  path  came 
up  out  o'  the  ravine,  and  most  of  all,  we  did  n't  want  him  to 
know  'at  we  were  follerin'  him. 


THE    FRIAR    GIVEN    TWO    WEEKS    315 

He  had  passed  us  by  this  time,  so  we  looked  over  the 
edge  o'  the  ravine  at  him.  He  was  walkin'  slow  with  his 
head  down,  and  his  hands  in  his  pockets.  "  He  '11  ride 
home  slow,"  sez  I ;  "  and  we  can  easy  beat  him." 

"  Hush,"  sez  The,  drag-gin'  us  back  from  the  edge, 
"  the's  two  fellers  follerin'  him." 

"  Horace,"  I  said,  quick  and  firm,  so  as  not  to  have  any 
back-talk,  "  you  go  about  forty  yards  up  the  ravine,  and  keep 
your  eyes  on  these  fellers.  Don't  shoot  'em  unless  they  try 
to  pass  you.  Hurry,  now !  I  've  given  you  the  most  im- 
portant post.  If  you  shoot,  shoot  in  earnest." 

Horace  stooped  over  and  ran  to  where  a  rock  jutted  out. 
"  Now,  then,"  sez  I,  "  as  soon  as  these  fellers  pass  us,  we  '11 
try  to  bowl  'em  over  with  one  stone  each,  and  then  drop 
back  out  o'  sight.  We  don't  want  to  shoot  unless  we  have 
to." 

"  They  're  wavin'  us  to  come  back,"  whispered  The,  who 
had  took  a  glance  at  our  look-out. 

"  Never  mind,"  sez  I,  lookin'  down  and  seein'  the  two  fel- 
lers crouched  over  and  sneakin'  after  the  Friar.  "  Now 
then,  throw  and  drop  back." 

We  stood  on  our  knees,  threw  one  stone  each,  and  dropped 
back.  They  rattled  in  the  ravine  below,  and  we  heard  a 
sharp  yelp  of  pain.  I  had  only  dodged  away  from  the  edge 
of  the  ravine  and  ran  to  where  Horace  was. 

"  One  feller  was  hit  in  the  shoulder  and  knocked  down," 
sez  he ;  "  but  he  got  up  again  right  away,  and  both  of  'em 
ran  back." 

"What  did  the  Friar  do?"  I  asked,  not  darin'  to  look 
over,  lest  he  see  me. 

"  He  turned  around  and  started  back,"  sez  Horace.  "  I 
was  afraid  he  'd  see  my  head  again'  the  sky,  so  I  pulled  it 


316  FRIAR    TUCK 

back.  I  have  n't  heard  him  move  since  those  fellers  started 
to  run." 

"  Well,  I  don't  believe  'at  even  the  Friar  would  be  daffy 
enough  to  go  back,"  sez  I ;  "so  we  '11  just  lay  here  and 
listen.  They  signalled  us  from  above  a  while  back,  but 
they  've  stopped  again." 

We  waited  some  time  without  hearin'  any  one  pass  us, 
and  then  we  sneaked  up  along  the  edge  of  the  ravine.  Be- 
fore long  we  saw  the  Friar  come  up  the  side.  He  paused 
on  top  and  looked  back,  then  mounted  and  started  for  Olaf 's 
at  a  slow  shuffle.  As  soon  as  he  was  well  under  way,  we 
pushed  for  the  look-out,  and  mounted. 

"  Slim,  you  and  Tillte  would  n't  be  missed  as  soon  as  the 
rest  of  us ;  so  you  trail  the  Friar,  while  we  try  to  beat  him 
home,"  sez  I.  "  If  you  need  us,  shoot.  Otherwise  come  in 
as  unnoticeable  as  you  're  able." 

We  reached  Olaf's,  had  our  saddles  off  and  the  hosses 
turned  loose  before  the  Friar  rode  in.  His  face  was  white, 
but  this  was  the  only  thing  'at  showed  what  he  was  goin' 
through.  We  made  a  big  fuss  about  his  gettin'  back  all 
right  and  asked  him  plenty  o'  questions,  without  overdoin' 
it  enough  to  make  him  suspicious.  He  answered  our  ques- 
tions right  enough,  but  he  didn't  open  up  and  talk  free. 
Slim  and  Tillte  joined  us  at  supper  without  bein'  noticed. 

After  supper  we  gathered  around  the  fire  in  Olaf's  settin' 
room,  and  the  Friar  gave  us  a  purty  complete  account  of 
what  had  happened.  He  said  that  it  was  his  old  girl  all 
right;  but  he  said  that  the'  was  somethin'  the  matter  with 
her,  that  she  did  n't  recognize  him  even  after  he  had  made 
himself  known  to  her.  He  said  she  seemed  dazed-like  and 
not  to  take  any  interest  in  anything. 

He  said  they  had  walked  down  the  ravine  together,  and 


THE    FRIAR    GIVEN    TWO    WEEKS    317 

she  had  told  him  that  she  was  comfortable  enough  but  not 
happy.  That  she  had  lost  something  which  she  could  not 
find;  but  that  she  was  getting  stronger  since  havin'  come 
out  to  the  mountains.  He  said  'at  when  Ty  Jones  saw  'em 
together,  he  had  carried  on  somethin'  fierce,  and  had  ordered 
her  into  the  house.  Then  he  had  turned  on  the  Friar  and 
told  him  that  he  would  give  him  two  weeks  to  leave  the  state 
and  after  that  his  life  would  n't  be  safe  in  it.  He  said  he 
had  tried  to  reason  with  Ty ;  but  it  was  n't  any  use ;  so  he 
had  just  come  away. 

"If  he  had  set  upon  you,  would  you  have  shot  him?" 
asked  Tank. 

"  I  did  n't  have  anything  to  shoot  him  with,"  sez  the  Friar. 
"  I  was  careful  to  leave  my  weapons  behind." 

"  Well,  you  did  n't  show  much  judgment  in  doin'  it,"  sez 
Tank.  "  He  might  have  sent  a  couple  o'  fellers  after  ya,  and 
finished  you  out  in  the  dark  somewhere  so  'at  we  never 
could  'a'  proved  it  on  him." 

"  I  did  think  for  a  minute  that  some  one  was  follerin'  me," 
sez  the  Friar.  "  I  heard  a  rattle  of  stones  and  a  cry  a  few 
hundred  feet  behind  me  in  the  ravine;  but  I  think  it  was 
some  animal  slippin'  down  the  side." 

"  Like  as  not,"  sez  Tank.  "  If  it  had  been  any  o'  Ty's 
gang,  they  wouldn't  have  give  it  up  so  easy;  but  another 
time  we  '11  some  of  us  go  along  with  you ;  so  as  to  get  your 
last  words  anyhow,  if  so  be  'at  you  're  bent  on  suicide.  What 
do  you  intend  to  do  now  ?  " 

"  That 's  the  worst  of  it,"  sez  the  Friar.  "  I  don't  know 
what  to  do.  She  said  she  did  not  think  she  was  married; 
but  she  was  not  sure ;  and  Ty  refused  to  give  me  any  satis- 
faction about  it." 

"  Is  n't  the'  any  law  out  here,  at  all  ?  "  sez  Horace.    "  Seems 


3i8  FRIAR    TUCK 

to  me  as  though  there  ought  to  be  some  way  to  get  at  Ty 
Jones." 

"  What  would  you  charge  him  with  ?  "  asked  the  Friar. 
"  She  is  not  being  abused  or  kept  a  prisoner,  she  says  she 
is  comfortable  and  gettin'  stronger  —  I  can't  think  of  any 
way  to  bring  him  under  the  law.  If  you  had  not  taken  the 
law  into  your  own  hands  in  regard  to  his  two  men,  we 
might  have  made  the  claim  that  he  was  behind  them  in  this ; 
but  really,  I  do  not  see  where  we  have  any  just  grounds  to 
go  to  law." 

"  That  little  matter  o'  the  Greasers  don't  hobble  us  none," 
sez  ol'  Tank.  "  Don't  you  get  the  idee  that  you  're  bound  in 
any  way  by  this.  The  whole  country  would  uphold  us ;  so 
if  you  want  to  use  it  as  a  lever,,  just  make  your  claims  again' 
Ty  to  the  law  officers,  and  we  '11  tell  'em  'at  the  Greasers  con- 
fessed 'at  Ty  put  'em  up  to  it." 

This  seemed  to  us  like  sage  advice ;  and  we  all  chipped  in 
and  urged  the  Friar  to  act  on  it.  Laws  are  all  right,  I  have  n't 
a  word  to  say  again'  laws.  Fact  is,  I  believe  'at  we  're  better 
off  for  havin'  a  few  than  not ;  but  after  all,  laws  come  under 
the  head  of  luxuries  like  diamonds  and  elevators  and  steam 
heat.  We  all  know  there  is  such  things,  and  we  have  n't 
any  objections  to  those  usin'  'em  who  can  afford  it;  but 
most  of  us  have  to  wear  cut-glass,  pack  in  our  own  wood, 
do  our  climbin'  on  foot  or  hossback,  and  settle  our  troubles 
in  our  own  way  with  as  little  bother  as  possible.  When  you 
figure  it  down  to  the  foundation,  laws  depend  on  public 
opinion,  not  public  opinion  on  laws;  and  all  the  public 
opinion  worth  takin'  into  account  would  have  said  'at  we 
had  done  the  right  thing  with  those  Greasers.  If  they  'd  'a' 
tried  to  law  us  for  a  little  thing  like  this,  it  would  have 
started  an  upraisin'  which  would  have  let  the  law  see  how 


THE    FRIAR    GIVEN    TWO    WEEKS    319 

small  a  shadow  it  really  does  throw  when  it  comes  to  a 
show-down. 

The  Friar  did  n't  answer  us  right  away,  and  when  he 
did,  it  was  in  the  most  discouraged  voice  I  'd  ever  heard 
him  use.  "  I  'm  in  the  dark,  boys,"  sez  he,  "  I  don't  know 
what  to  do.  Even  if  I  could  find  some  way  to  take  her 
away  from  Ty  Jones,  I  do  not  know  what  to  do  with  her. 
She  is  not  herself,  she  needs  care  and  protection  —  and 
I  am  not  in  a  position  to  supply  them.  I  have  an  income 
of  three  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  a  year,  which  is  much 
more  than  enough  for  my  own  needs,  for  I  live  mostly  upon 
the  hospitality  of  my  friends  as  you  well  know  "  —  we  also 
knew  'at  he  spent  most  of  his  money  in  helpin'  those 
who  never  saw  enough  money  to  get  on  intimate  terms  with 
it ;  while  all  they  gave  him  in  return  was  a  little  meal  and 
bacon  for  savin'  their  souls  and  doctor-bills.  "  I  don't  know 
what  I  could  do  for  her,  even  if  I  had  the  right  to  take  her 
away  from  him,"  continued  the  Friar.  "  My  life  has  been 
a  good  deal  of  a  failure ;  and  I  —  " 

"  For  the  love  o'  common  sense,  Friar !  "  broke  in  Horace. 
"  You  don't  seem  to  have  the  smallest  degree  o'  judgment. 
You  know  mighty  well  'at  I  'm  bothered  to  death  to  know 
what  to  do  with  my  money.  You  get  her  if  you  can,  send 
her  to  any  sort  of  a  sanitarium  you  want  to,  and  I  '11  foot 
the  bills.  Don't  you  ever  sit  around  and  whine  about  money 
in  my  presence  again.  It  worries  and  disgusts  and  irritates 
me  —  and  I  came  out  here  for  rest.  You  talk  about  faith 
and  takin'  no  heed  for  the  morrow,  and  such  things;  but 
you  act  as  though  you  were  riskin'  a  man's  soul  when  you 
gave  him  a  chance  to  be  of  some  little  use  in  the  world." 

The  Friar  was  purty  well  overcome  at  this;  but  figure 
on  it  the  best  we  were  able,  we  couldn't  see  just  how  to 


320  FRIAR    TUCK 

get  a  man's  wife  away  from  him  without  provin'  that  he  had 
abused  her.  It  was  a  complication,  any  way  we  looked  at 
it;  so  we  all  went  to  bed  in  the  hope  that  one  of  us  would 
have  a  lucky  dream. 

We  did  n't  have  any  more  idees  next  mornin'  than  we  'd 
had  the  night  before;  so  after  breakfast,  the  Friar  took  a 
walk  and  the  rest  of  us  sat  around  in  bunches  talkin'  it 
over.  About  ten  o'clock  a  feller  named  Joyce  who  lived 
about  fifteen  miles  east  of  Olaf  came  by  on  his  way  for  a 
doctor,  his  boy  havin'  been  kicked  above  the  knee  and  his 
leg  broke.  The  Friar  could  patch  up  a  human  as  good  as 
any  doctor;  so  we  went  after  him,  knowin'  that  this  would 
be  the  best  way  to  take  his  mind  off  his  own  troubles,  and 
the'  was  a  look  o'  relief  in  the  Friar's  face  when  he  rode 
away  with  Joyce. 

I  never  knew  any  feller  yet  who  didn't  spend  a  lot  o' 
time  wishin'  he  had  a  chance  to  loaf  all  the  laziness  out  of 
his  system;  but  the  fact  of  the  matter  is,  that  work  gives 
us  more  satisfaction  than  anything  else.  A  wild  animal's 
life  is  one  long  stretch  after  enough  to  eat ;  but  he  's  full  o' 
health  an'  joy  an'  beauty.  On  the  other  hand,  put  one  in 
a  cage  and  feed  it  regular  and  it  turns  sick  immediate. 
What  we  need  is  plenty  o'  the  kind  o'  work  we  are  fitted 
for  —  this  is  the  answer  to  all  our  discontented  f eelin' ;  and 
what  the  Friar  was  best  fitted  for,  was  to  help  others. 


CHAPTER   THIRTY-FOUR 

A   CROSS   FOR   EVERY    MAN 

THINKIN',  just  plain  thinkin',  is  about  the  hardest  work  the' 
is;  and  for  the  next  several  days,  we  lay  around  doin' 
mighty  little  else.  The  trouble  was,  'at  we  could  n't  devise 
a  way  to  put  Ty  Jones  out  o'  business.  He  was  n't  an  out- 
law ;  fact  was,  he  stood  high  with  the  big  cattle  men ;  and 
we  got  light  headed  tryin'  to  scare  up  a  plan  which  would 
remove  Ty  in  a  decent  manner,  and  leave  the  Friar  free 
to  take  the  woman  without  causin'  him  any  conscience- 
pains.  We  were  the  mournfulest  lookin'  bunch  o'  healthy 
men  ever  I  saw ;  and  finally  I  decided  to  loaf  with  Kit  and 
the  kid,  they  not  bein'  expected  to  do  any  thinkin'  and  there- 
fore havin'  smooth  an'  pleasant  faces. 

Sometimes  I  wonder  if  women  don't  get  along  just  as 
well  without  thinkin'  as  men  do  with  it.  I  hadn't  talked 
seven  minutes  with  Kit  before  she  suggested  just  what  I 
would  have  thought  up  if  I  'd  been  able.  She  did  n't  even 
know  she  had  suggested  it;  so  I  didn't  call  her  attention 
to  it  for  fear  it  might  up-heave  her  vanity  and  give  Olaf 
bother.  I  had  a  plan  now  and  it  was  of  such  a  nature  that 
I  was  glad  the  Friar  was  n't  there  to  mess  into  it. 

I  found  Promotheus  an'  Tank  lyin'  on  the  grass  along  the 
crick.  They  were  back  to  back,  and  their  faces  were  so 
lined  with  genuwine  thought,  that  they  looked  like  a  pair 
of  overgrown  nutmegs.  I  sat  down  beside  'em  lookin' 
worried. 


322  FRIAR    TUCK 

Presently  Tank  sez :   "  What  ya  thinkin'  about  ?  " 

I  shook  my  head,  and  in  about  half  an  hour  The  asked 
the  same  question.  I  waited  a  minute,  hove  out  a  sigh,  and 
sez :  "  Gee,  I  wish  I  was  you." 

"  Why  do  you  wish  you  was  me  ?  "  sez  he. 

"  'Cause,"  sez  I,  "  you  've  got  a  chance  to  do  the  biggest 
deed  I  know  of." 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  sez  he,  examinin'  my  face  to  see  if  I  was 
sheepin'  him. 

"  No,"  sez  I,  shakin'  my  head ;  "  I  ain't  got  any  right  to 
even  think  of  it,  let  alone  hint  at  it.  You  might  think 
I  was  buttin'  into  your  affairs,  and  then  again  —  No, 
I  refuse  to  suggest  it.  If  it 's  your  duty,  you  '11  see  it 
yourself;  but  I  won't  take  the  responsibility  of  pointin'  it 
out" 

"  What  in  thunder  did  you  mention  it  at  all  for,  then  ?  " 
sez  The,  gettin'  curious  an'  exasperated. 

"  And  then  besides,"  sez  I  to  myself,  out  loud,  "  there  's 
Horace.  Like  as  not  he  would  n't  allow  you  to  run  your 
head  into  danger  any  more." 

"  What !  "  yelled  The.  *'  Did  n't  we  run  our  heads  into 
danger  all  over  the  tropics  of  the  Orient,  did  n't  we  goad 
up  danger  an'  search  for  it  and  roust  it  out  of  its  hidin' 
places  and —  Why,  confound  you  —  " 

In  about  ten  minutes  I  stopped  him,  an'  sez  in  a  quiet 
voice :  "  Well,  then,  if  I  was  you,  I  'd  go  on  down  to  Ty 
Jones's  and  take  on  with  him  again." 

We  lay  on  the  grass  there,  along  Pearl  Crick  for  some 
time  without  speakin'.  Up  on  the  rim,  the  grass  was  burned 
to  a  crisp ;  but  along  the  crick  it  was  still  green.  Promo- 
theus  pulled  blade  after  blade  of  it  and  chewed  'em  up  in 
his  mouth,  while  me  an'  Tank  watched  him. 


A    CROSS    FOR    EVERY    MAN       323 

"  What  you  mean,  is  for  me  to  take  on  with  Ty  Jones  — 
and  then  to  act  spy  on  him.  Ain't  that  what  ya  mean  ? "  sez 
The  after  a  time. 

I  'd  'a'  sooner  he  had  n't  put  it  into  words  —  it  did  look 
rather  raw  when  he  stood  it  up  before  us  naked.  "  I  don't 
mean  nothin'  in  particular,  The,"  sez  I.  "  You  and  I  are 
different,  and  what  I  could  do  without  feelin'  —  " 

"  That 's  all  right,"  he  broke  in.  "  The'  ain't  any  need 
to  treat  me  like  an  infant  baby.  Come  right  out  with  it  — 
What  you  want  me  to  do  is  to  play  spy,  ain't  it  ?  " 

"  That 's  the  only  way  I  can  see  to  help  the  Friar,"  sez  I ; 
"  but  he  would  n't  want  you  to  do  anything  for  him  you 
didn't  feel  was  right." 

"  I  know,  I  know,"  he  sez,  lookin'  down  at  his  hands. 
"  Ty  Jones  is  as  mean  as  a  snake,  and  I  don't  deny  it ;  but 
he  's  been  square  with  me,  and  once  he  saved  my  life.  Then 
again,  the  Friar  has  been  square  with  every  one,  and  if  he 
hadn't  nursed  me  night  and  day,  Horace  wouldn't  have 
had  a  chance  to  save  my  life.  If  Horace  had  killed  me  it 
would  have  spoiled  his  life ;  so  that  the  whole  thing  is  held 
together  in  a  tangle.  I  'm  willin'  to  cash  in  my  life  for  the 
Friar  —  it  ain't  that  —  but  I  do  hate  to  turn  again'  Ty  Jones 
underhanded." 

"  Better  just  forget  I  mentioned  it,"  sez  I. 

"  No,"  sez  Promotheus,  "  I  intend  to  lay  the  plan  before 
Horace,  and  let  him  settle  on  it." 

"  That 's  a  good  scheme,  that 's  the  best  way  out  of  it," 
sez  ol'  Tank,  and  I  joined  in  with  him. 

We  sat  there  on  the  bank  a  long  time,  thinkin'  the  thing 
over,  and  finally  just  before  supper,  Horace  hove  in  sight 
and  started  to  josh  us ;  but  when  he  saw  how  sober  we  were, 
he  settled  down,  and  asked  us  what  was  up. 


324  FRIAR    TUCK 

"  Horace,"  sez  The,  "  what  would  you  think  of  my  takin' 
on  with  Ty  Jones,  and  playin'  the  spy  on  him  ?  " 

"  That  would  be  madness !  "  exclaimed  Horace.  "  He  'd 
see  through  it  and  kill  you  first  pop.  I  don't  know  though 
—  you  might  fix  up  a  tale  —  but  then  it  would  be  too  infer- 
nal risky.  Nope,  don't  you  try  it." 

"  If  it  could  be  done,"  persisted  The,  "  what  would  you 
think  of  it?" 

"  Oh,  it  would  be  a  great  thing  for  the  Friar,"  sez  Horace ; 
"  but,  Promotheus,  I  don't  like  to  have  you  take  the  risk." 

"  It  ain't  the  risk  I  'm  fussin'  about,"  sez  The.  "  Ty  was 
square  to  me  in  his  own  way.  The  Friar  has  been  square 
to  me  also,  and  I  know  'at  his  way  is  the  best;  but  at  the 
same  time  —  don't  you  think  it  would  be  downright  snakish 
for  me  to  go  back  to  Ty,  tell  him  some  excuse  for  my  stayin' 
away,  and  then  plot  again'  him  while  I  'm  eatin'  his  vittles  ?  " 

It  didn't  sound  good  to  us  when  Promotheus  came  out 
with  it  so  everlastin'  unpolluted;  but  he  had  worked  up  a 
sense  of  honesty  since  bein'  with  Horace,  which  would  n't 
let  him  do  any  pertendin'.  Horace  did  n't  answer,  and  he 
went  on  after  waitin'  a  minute:  "  I  have  n't  any  prejudices 
again'  fightin'  him  in  the  open;  but  it  does  go  again'  my 
grain  to  wear  a  dog  hide  when  I  'm  playin'  wolf,  and  Ty 
Jones  was  square  to  me." 

"  Well,"  sez  Horace,  "  I  have  n't  the  heart  to  advise  you 
to  do  this,  Promotheus.  We'll  sure  be  able  to  find  some 
other  way,  and  as  long  as  it  goes  again'  your  grain  the  way 
it  does,  I  don't  want  you  to  do  it." 

"Would  you  think  any  the  less  of  me  if  I  did?"  asked 
The,  his  eyes  takin'  on  a  sad,  hungry  look,  like  a  dog's  eyes 
get  when  he 's  worried  over  what  his  master  '11  say  about 
some  trick  he  's  been  up  to. 


A    CROSS    FOR    EVERY    MAN       325 

"  Course  I  would  n't  think  any  less  of  ya,"  sez  Horace 
without  hesitatin';  "but  hang  it,  I'm  afraid  somethin"!! 
happen  to  ya." 

"  Would  the  Friar  think  any  the  less  of  me  ?  "  sez  The. 

"  If  the  Friar  heard  about  it,  he  would  n't  let  ya  go,"  sez 
Horace. 

"  I  've  puzzled  more  about  the  Friar  'n  about  airy  other 
man  I  ever  saw,"  sez  The,  thoughtful.  "  I  wanted  to  lynch 
Olaf  that  time,  guilty  or  not  guilty ;  but  the  Friar  straight- 
ened things  out  by  riskin'  his  own  soul.  He  hates  lynchin', 
it  goes  square  again'  his  grain;  but  he  made  a  bet  with  us 
to  help  stretch  Olaf  if  we  could  prove  him  guilty ;  and  this 
has  stuck  with  me.  This  was  a  big  thing  to  do,  and  I  'd 
like  to  do  somethin'  big  for  the  Friar —  But  I  swear  it 
would  hurt  me  to  spy  on  Ty  Jones ! " 

We  didn't  have  anything  to  say  on  the  subject;  so  we 
just  sat  and  chewed  grass. 

"  I  've  been  thinkin'  about  that  old  Greek  feller,  'at  you 
named  me  after,"  sez  Promotheus  at  last.  "  He  did  n't  ask 
no  one  else  to  take  the  responsibility  of  tellin'  him  what  to 
do.  He  just  decided  what  was  right,  and  then  did  it.  If 
I  go  to  Ty  Jones,  and  he  treats  me  right,  my  own  thoughts  '11 
tear  at  me  like  vultures ;  but  this  here  other  Promotheus,  he 
stood  it," 'cause  it  was  for  man's  good;  and  I'm  game  to 
do  the  same. 

"  I  don't  intend  to  be  any  more  sneakier  'n  I  have  to  be. 
All  I  intend  to  do  is  to  find  out  what  I  can  about  the  woman, 
and,  if  Ty  ain't  treatin'  her  right,  to  help  get  her  away  from 
him ;  but  I  want  it  understood  right  now  that  I  'm  not  goin' 
to  work  any  tricks  on  Ty  to  get  him  into  the  law  for 
what  he 's  done  in  bygone  days.  Now  then,  I  take  all 
the  blame  on  my  own  shoulders ;  but  we  '11  have  to  fix 


326  FRIAR    TUCK 

up  a  tale  to  fool  a  wise  one,  'cause  Ty  won't  be  took  in 
by  chaff." 

We  talked  things  over  a  long  time ;  but  it  seemed  mighty 
unreasonable  for  Promotheus  to  have  pulled  out  without 
sayin'  a  word,  and  then  to  come  back  without  writin'  in  the 
meantime ;  and  we  could  n't  quite  hit  on  it.  Finally  the  idee 
came  to  me. 

"  They  're  goin'  to  graze  the  grass  down  to  the  roots,  this 
summer,"  sez  I ;  "  but  still,  the'  won't  be  enough  to  go 
around.  A  lot  o'  cattle  will  have  to  be  sold  off  early,  and 
some  will  be  trailed  up  into  Montana,  and  cow-punchers  are 
goin'  to  be  in  demand.  Ty  is  long  on  cattle  and  short  on 
grass,  and  he  '11  be  glad  to  have  extra  help  he  can  trust ;  so 
he  won't  question  ya  too  close.  You  tell  him  'at  Horace  here 
was  a  government  agent,  and  that  he  arrested  you  as  a  de- 
serter, and  took  you  to  prison  where  you  was  given  a  life 
sentence;  that  you  broke  out  a  couple  o'  months  ago,  and 
have  been  workin'  your  way  back  as  cautious  as  you  could." 

"  My  Lord,  I  hate  to  tell  him  that!  "  sez  The.  "  It 's  too 
infernal  much  like  what  I  told  him  the  first  time." 

"  You  got  to  make  up  a  good  story,  or  else  give  up  your 
plan,"  sez  I. 

"Yes,  that's  so,"  he  agreed.  "  Ty  'd  believe  that,  too. 
What  prison  had  I  better  say  I  've  been  in  ?  " 

"  Which  one  was  you  in  ?  "  sez  I. 

"  I  never  was  in  any  government  prison,"  sez  he.  "  I  was 
in  a  state  prison." 

"  Have  ya  ever  seen  a  government  prison  ?  "  sez  I. 

"  Yes,  I  've  seen  two,  one  in  Kansas,  and  one  in  Frisco," 
sez  he. 

"  Which  would  be  the  hardest  to  get  out  of  ? "  sez  I. 

"  The  one  in  Frisco ;  it 's  on  an  island,"  sez  he. 


A    CROSS     FOR    EVERY    MAN       327 

"  Choose  that  one,"  sez  I ;  "  and  make  up  your  escape  just 
as  it  might  have  happened." 

"  Ty  won't  haggle  me  with  questions,"  sez  The  sadly. 
"  He  '11  just  believe  me,  an'  this  '11  make  it  ten  times  as  hard." 

"  You  ought  to  be  paler  an'  more  haggard,"  sez  I ;  "  but  I 
doubt  if  the's  a  way  to  do  it." 

"  Keep  soakin'  his  face  in  hot  towels  for  a  few  days,"  sez 
Horace.  "  That  '11  bleach  him  out." 

"  Are  ya  goin'  foot  or  hossback  ?  "  sez  I. 

"  I  stole  a  hoss  down  in  Texas  the  last  time  I  came,"  sez 
he,  "  and  traded  him  off  when  he  got  footsore." 

"  We  got  some  hosses  with  a  Nevada  brand,  over  at  the 
Dot,"  sez  I.  "  I  '11  slip  over  an'  get  one  while  you  're  havin' 
your  complexion  bleached  off.  They  broke  out  an'  got  with 
the  herd  before  we  finished  brandin'  'em,  and  we  just  let  it 
go.  The  chances  are  they  have  n't  been  rebranded  yet." 

"  All  right,"  sez  The.  "  If  I  'm  to  do  it  at  all,  I  want  it 
to  go  through ;  but  I  have  an  idee  'at  those  vultures  pickin' 
at  my  liver  are  goin'  to  be  mighty  unpleasant  company." 

Me  an'  Spider  Kelley,  Tillte  Dutch  an'  Mexican  Slim  rode 
over  to  the  Dot  and  found  two  o'  those  Nevada  hosses,  still 
rangin'  with  their  old  brands  untouched;  so  we  roped  one, 
and  came  back  with  it,  without  havin'  word  with  any  of  the 
outfit.  The  Diamond  Dot  range  was  the  best  of  any  we  rode 
over,  and  they  had  put  up  a  lot  o'  hay  that  summer;  but 
still  I  felt  sure  'at  they  would  have  to  cut  down  purty  close, 
though  I  knew  'at  Jabez  would  hold  as  many  as  he  could 
for  a  high  price  the  followin'  year. 

We  found  The's  complexion  purty  well  stewed  out  and 
haggard,  Kit  havin'  put  soda  in  the  hot  water ;  so  I  told  him 
to  play  sick,  and  loaf  around  the  house  as  long  as  possible. 
He  agreed  to  it ;  but  the'  was  a  settled  look  o'  regret  in  his 


328  FRIAR    TUCK 

face  which  was  a  heap  different  from  the  one  he  had  wore 
when  he  dismounted  from  the  stage  at  Bosco. 

"  Night  and  day,"  sez  I,  "  the'll  be  at  least  two  of  us  at 
the  look-out,  and  you  come  up  with  any  news  you  have. 
Get  into  the  habit  of  whistlin'  Horace's  tune;  so  that  if 
ever  you  'd  want  to  warn  us  to  vamose  rapid,  you  can  whistle 
it.  You  might  ride  that  way  with  some  o'  Ty's  outfit,  or 
somethin'." 

"  It 's  not  likely,"  sez  he.  "  The's  no  range  up  that 
way,  and  no  trail  leadin'  near  it;  but  you  fellers  want 
to  scatter  your  tracks  all  you  can,  so  as  not  to  make  a 
path." 

We  made  plans  for  all  the  unexpected  details  we  could 
think  up;  and  then  he  started  forth  one  night,  meanin'  to 
circle  to  the  southwest,  and  come  in  from  that  direction.  He 
wore  a  red  handkerchief  under  his  nose  as  if  to  shut  out  the 
dust;  but  shaved  clean,  and  pale  as  he  was,  mighty  few 
would  have  recognized  him  either  as  Badger-face,  or  as  the 
feller  what  had  come  in  with  us  a  few  weeks  before.  We 
all  shook  hands  solemn  when  he  left,  and  promised  to  be  at 
the  look-out  the  followin'  night,  and  to  be  there  steady  from 
that  on. 

"What  makes  you  fellers  trust  me?"  sez  he  just  as  he 
started.  "  I  came  down  here  to  put  Olaf  out  o'  business, 
and  then  I  turned  over  to  your  side.  Now  I  'm  goin'  back 
to  Ty's.  What  makes  you  think  I  won't  turn  again'  ya,  if 
I  get  into  a  tight  place?" 

Horace  went  over  and  took  his  hand.  "  Promotheus,"  sez 
he,  "  I  've  been  with  you  through  hot  days  and  cold  nights, 
I  Ve  been  with  you  through  hunger  and  thirst  and  danger ; 
and  I  'd  trust  you  as  long  as  I  'd  trust  myself.  You  're  not 
goin'  to  Ty's  because  you  're  a  traitor.  You  're  goin'  because 


A    CROSS    FOR    EVERY    MAN       329 

you  're  a  changed  man,  and  the  new  man  you  've  become  is 
willin'  to  risk  his  life  for  what  he  thinks  is  right.  No  matter 
what  happens,  I  '11  trust  ya ;  so  take  that  along  to  think 
over." 

Promotheus  winked  his  eyes  purty  fast,  then  he  gave  a 
sigh  and  rode  off  into  the  night.  The'  was  n't  the  hint  of  a 
smile  about  his  lips,  nor  a  glint  o'  gladness  in  his  eyes ;  but 
somethin'  in  the  straight  way  'at  he  held  his  back  let  ya 
know  'at  the  inside  man  of  him  was  finally  at  peace  with 
what  the  outside  man  was  doin'  —  and  if  ya  don't  know  what 
that  means,  the's  no  way  to  tell  ya. 


CHAPTER  THIRTY-FIVE 

THE   FRIAR   A    COMPLICATION 

WE  all  felt  purty  down-hearted  after  Promotheus  had  rode 
away,  and  we  sat  before  the  fire  in  Olaf's  settin'  room  a 
good  deal  the  same  as  if  we  were  holdin'  a  wake. 

"  Olaf,"  I  sez,  "  you  can't  have  any  finicky  notions  about 
treatin'  Ty  Jones  square,  after  all  the  persecutin'  he  's  handed 
you.  Do  you  know  anything  on  him  you  could  have  him 
sent  to  prison  for  ?  " 

Olaf  shook  his  head.  "  He  's  too  clever  to  get  caught  in 
a  trap,"  sez  he.  "  He  scarcely  ever  gave  any  orders  to  have 
things  done.  He  'd  just  say  aloud  as  though  talkin'  to  him- 
self, that  some  one  or  other  was  in  his  way;  and  then  his 
men  would  begin  to  take  spite  on  that  feller.  If  the  calf  tally 
showed  a  hundred  percent  increase,  he  would  think  that 
about  right,  and  no  questions;  but  if  ever  it  fell  short  o' 
what  he  expected,  we  had  it  to  make  up  some  way.  He  'd 
send  us  out  until  we  had  brought  in  enough  to  satisfy ;  but 
he  'd  never  give  us  straight  orders  to  rustle.  He  is  a  smart 
man.  When  one  of  his  men  got  into  trouble,  he  got  him  out, 
no  matter  what  cost;  but  he  expected  his  men  to  do  what 
he  wanted,  without  askin'  questions.  He  has  no  fear,  none 
at  all.  I  know,  I  have  seen.  He  has  no  fear,  and  he  is  very 
strong.  It  is  bad  to  be  at  war  with  him ;  but  I  should  like 
to  have  my  hands  at  his  throat  once,  and  none  to  interfere." 

"  Maybe  you  will,  Olaf,"  sez  I,  "  maybe  you  will ;  and  I 
don't  mind  sayin'  that  I  hope  to  be  on  hand  to  see  it." 


THE    FRIAR    A    COMPLICATION    331 

We  kept  two  men  allus  at  the  look-out  with  Horace's 
field  glasses.  It  was  a  queer  sort  o'  summer,  the  air  was  n't 
clear  like  it  usually  is,  but  hazy,  as  though  full  o'  dust ;  and 
in  lots  of  places  they  were  turnin'  stock  on  the  grass  they 
generally  aimed  to  save  for  winter.  There  were  only  a  few 
punchers  around  the  Cross  brand  ranch  houses ;  but  we  saw 
Promotheus  every  day.  He  hobbled  about  with  a  stick  part 
o'  the  time,  holdin'  his  hand  on  his  back  as  though  he  had 
the  rheumatiz,  which  was  natural  enough  from  bein'  shut 
up  in  an  island  prison.  Some  days  we  saw  the  woman ;  but 
she  never  came  up  the  ravine  path  any  more. 

Promotheus  did  n't  make  a  report  to  us  for  about  a  week. 
Then  he  came  out  one  night  about  eleven.  He  said  'at  Ty 
had  n't  doubted  a  word  he  'd  said ;  but  had  done  everything 
possible  to  make  him  comfortable,  tellin'  him  to  just  loaf 
until  he  got  in  good  order.  He  said  'at  Ty  and  the  woman 
did  n't  have  much  to  do  with  each  other  and  had  n't  had 
since  she  'd  come  out.  He  said  'at  the  woman  was  kind  to 
all  the  animals,  in  spite  of  everything  'at  Ty  could  do,  and 
the  dogs  was  gettin'  to  act  like  regular,  ordinary  dogs.  He 
said  all  but  a  few  new  pups  had  remembered  him,  and  one 
had  even  wagged  his  tail,  though  he  could  n't  see  any  sense 
in  this,  he  never  havin'  as  much  as  spoke  a  kind  word  to  the 
dog,  so  far  as  he  could  recollect. 

He  said  he  had  held  several  talks  with  Ty,  and  Ty  had 
asked  him  if  he  thought  'at  Olaf  was  in  league  with  any  big 
outfits.  He  said  'at  he  had  told  Ty  that  he  was  sure  Olaf  had 
been  in  league  with  'em  several  years  before,  but  o'  course, 
he  could  n't  know  anything  o'  what  had  happened  since.  Ty 
said  he  had  come  to  the  conclusion  that  Olaf  was  set  out  for 
a  kind  of  bait  to  draw  him  into  trouble,  which  was  why  he 
had  let  him  alone ;  but  that  he  was  short  o'  grass  this  season, 


332  FRIAR    TUCK 

and  wanted  Pearl  Crick  Spread  bad.  He  also  told  The 
about  the  two  Greasers  disappearing  though  he  was  n't  sure 
what  had  happened  to  'em.  He  knew  about  us  bein'  over  at 
Olaf s  off  and  on,  and  The  warned  us  to  be  careful,  as  Ty 
expected  to  have  Olaf's  place  watched  as  soon  as  he  got 
through  movin'  several  bands  o'  cattle. 

The  said  'at  the  woman  had  a  soft  spot  for  any  dumb  brute, 
or  even  a  human  in  distress,  and  that  he  had  touched  her  by 
hobblin'  around  with  the  stick.  He  said  she  had  cooked  him 
some  flabby  invalid-food  with  her  own  hands,  and  that  it 
was  mighty  captivatin'.  He  said  she  didn't  speak  much; 
but  he  was  tryin'  his  best  to  get  on  the  good  side  of  her.  He 
said  'at  all  the  boys  claimed  'at  Ty  treated  her  well;  but 
did  n't  seem  to  care  much  for  her.  Horace  did  n't  happen 
to  be  with  us  when  The  came ;  but  we  said  we  'd  move  our 
camp  higher  up  on  the  slope,  to  be  on  the  safe  side  when 
Olaf's  was  watched,  and  would  have  Horace  on  deck  sure 
the  next  time  The  came  out;  and  we  did  this  the  next  day. 

The  land  was  all  slashed  an'  twisted  around  and  broken, 
up  west  o'  the  Cross  brand  ranch  houses.  The  ravine  leadin' 
down  to  'em  ran  east  and  west,  the  path  leadin'  up  out  of  it 
to  the  trees  where  we  had  first  seen  the  woman  was  n't  near 
so  steep  as  the  one  comin'  out  of  it  on  the  north  side  toward 
the  clump  o'  rocks.  After  the  north  path  came  out,  the 
ravine  narrowed  down  until  it  was  n't  more  than  a  crack,  the 
south  side  not  risin'  so  high  as  on  the  north ;  so  that  soon 
the  north  side  stood  up  like  a  cliff  above  the  land  leadin' 
down  to  the  clump  of  trees,  and  the  only  way  we  could  get 
over  to  it  was  to  go  down  the  ravine  and  up  again  on  the 
other  side. 

We  made  our  camp  consid'able  higher  than  our  look-out 
had  been,  and  it  was  a  well  sheltered  spot.  An  easy  slopin' 


THE    FRIAR    A    COMPLICATION    333 

stretch  led  up  to  it  from  the  north,  and  a  ledge  skirted  the 
face  o'  the  cliff  up  back  of  it,  to  the  south.  We  examined 
this  some  distance;  but  it  didn't  seem  to  lead  anywhere. 
We  found  several  dips  back  in  the  hills  where  the  snow 
water  made  grazin'  for  our  ponies,  and  we  were  as  comfort- 
able as  it 's  ever  possible  to  be  while  waitin'. 

I  know  what  my  plan  would  be  for  makin'  a  hell  which 
would  be  punishment  for  any  mortal  sin,  and  yet  not  severe 
enough  to  make  me  hate  all  the  peace  out  o'  my  own  exis- 
tence. I  'd  make  the  wicked  sit  in  the  dark  for  a  hundred 
years,  waitin'  to  hear  what  their  sentence  was.  Then,  I  'd 
let  'em  into  heaven,  and  I  bet  they  would  be  in  a  fair  way 
to  appreciate  it.  I  never  met  up  with  any  one  able  to  out- 
wait  me  without  showin'  it  more  'n  I  did ;  but  I  '11  wager 
what  I  got,  that  the  suspense  was  gorin'  into  me  worse  'n 
into  them,  all  the  time. 

One  evenin',  me  an'  Tank  went  up  to  camp  after  doin'  our 
stunt  at  the  look-out,  and  as  we  went,  we  caught  sight  o'  two 
riders  headin'  our  way.  We  hastened  along  so  as  to  be  ready 
to  move  in  case  this  was  a  pair  we  did  n't  care  to  draw  to ; 
but  by  the  time  we  reached  camp,  they  were  close  enough  to 
recognize  as  the  Friar  and  Olaf.  The  plan  was  to  keep  the 
Friar  in  the  dark  as  long  as  possible,  and  we  waited  their 
comin'  with  consid'able  interest. 

The  Friar  had  squeezed  the  whole  thing  out  of  Olaf,  as 
we  might  have  known  he  would.  You  couldn't  trust  Olaf 
with  a  secret  where  the  Friar  was  concerned.  Tank,  now, 
would  have  sent  the  Friar  off  to  Bosco  or  Laramie  as  con- 
tented as  a  bug ;  but  just  as  soon  as  Olaf  was  backed  into  a 
corner,  he  told  the  truth,  and  spoiled  all  our  arrangements. 

The  Friar  rode  into  our  camp,  dismounted,  threw  his 
reins  to  the  ground,  and  sez :  "  Where  is  Promotheus  ?  " 


334  FRIAR    TUCK 

We  looked  at  Olaf ,  and  he  nodded  his  head  as  sheepish  as 
the  under  dog  at  a  bee-swarmin'.  "  He 's  down  at  the 
ranch,"  sez  Horace. 

"  Has  he  brought  any  news  ?  "  asked  the  Friar.  So  we 
told  him  all  'at  The  had  reported.  He  took  a  few  steps  up 
and  down,  ponderin'. 

"  I  can't  permit  this,"  he  said  after  a  minute.  "  He  is 
riskin'  his  life  down  there,  and  I  can't  allow  him  to 
continue." 

The  rest  all  joined  in  and  argued  with  him;  but  he  was 
as  obstinate  as  a  burro,  once  he  got  his  back  up ;  so  I  did  n't 
say  anything.  I  went  off  and  started  to  eat  my  supper. 
When  I  was  about  half  through,  Horace  came  over  and  said 
the  Friar  was  bent  on  goin'  down  to  Ty's  himself.  "  Well, 
let  him  go,"  sez  I  as  cool  as  a  snow-slide. 

"  Yes,  but  if  he  goes,  Ty  will  kill  both  him  and  Promo- 
theus ! "  sez  Horace  raisin'  his  voice.  I  noticed  the  others 
headin'  toward  us  so  I  only  flung  my  hands  into  the  air, 
meanin'  that  it  was  none  o'  my  business. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  'at  you  back  the  Friar  up  in  this  ?  " 
demanded  Horace. 

"  Do  I  look  like  a  fool  ?  "  sez  I.  The  Friar's  eyes  were  on 
me,  and  I  knew  they  were  cold;  but  I  pertended  not  to 
notice  him. 

"  You  don't  look  like  a  fool ;  but  you  act  like  one,"  sez 
Horace,  gettin'  riled. 

"  You  can't  blame  me,  Horace,"  I  sez  in  my  most  drawly 
voice,  "  because  the  Friar  cares  more  for  havin'  his  own  way 
than  he  does  for  human  life." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that?  "  demanded  the  Friar. 

"  Oh,  nothin',"  sez  I,  "  except  that  if  you  go  down  there, 
it  shows  Prometheus  up  at  once,  we  'd  all  have  to  go  along 


THE    FRIAR    A    COMPLICATION    335 

to  save  Promotheus,  and  this  would  start  a  fight,  with  us  to 
blame ;  and  no  one  knowin'  what  the  woman  is,  or  how  she 
stands  in  the  matter.  She  seems  perfectly  satisfied  with 
Ty  Jones ;  and  no  matter  how  it  turned  out,  all  of  us  who 
survived  would  have  to  leave  the  country.  I  don't  intend 
to  argue  with  you,  or  to  cross  you  in  any  way;  but  I  do 
intend  to  stand  by  Promotheus,  as  it  was  me  who  first  put 
the  idee  into  his  head." 

I  sympathized  with  the  Friar,  I  knew  that  he  was  n't  him- 
self. To  find  the  woman  he  loved  in  the  hands  of  the  man 
who  hated  him,  after  all  the  years  he  had  been  in  suspense 
about  her  was  enough  to  tip  any  one  off  his  balance;  and 
I  also  knew  the  Friar.  He  had  trained  himself  for  eternity 
so  long  that  some  of  his  earthly  idees  were  n't  sound,  and 
the  surest  way  to  bring  him  to  himself  was  to  let  him  bark 
his  knees  a  time  or  two.  Some  imported  hosses  carry  their 
gaze  so  high  they  can't  see  their  footin'  but  after  they  've 
stepped  into  a  few  prairie-dog  holes,  they  learn  to  take  a 
little  more  interest  in  what  they  're  treadin'  on. 

The  Friar  came  over  and  looked  down  at  me.  "  I  shall 
wait  until  Promotheus  comes  up  here,  and  then  he  can  stay ; 
and  I  shall  go  down,"  said  the  Friar  in  the  voice  a  man  uses 
when  he  thinks  it 's  wrong  to  show  the  sarcasm  he  can't  help 
but  feel.  "  Have  you  any  objection  to  this?  " 

"  I  have  no  objection  to  anything  you  choose  to  do,  Friar," 
I  said,  finishin'  my  supper. 

"  Do  I  understand  that  you  approve  ?  "  sez  he. 

"Certainlee  not,"  sez  I.  "Ty  would  see  the  connection 
between  you  and  Promotheus  at  once.  He  knows  'at  The 
was  a  deserter,  and  he  would  set  the  law  on  him  in  one  direc- 
tion, and  try  to  run  him  down  on  his  own  hook  in  the  other. 
If  you  had  been  on  hand  while  we  were  discussin'  the  plan, 


336  FRIAR    TUCK 

you  would  have  had  the  right  to  veto  it ;  but  now,  it  looks 
to  me  as  though  Promotheus  was  the  one  to  consider." 

The  Friar  sat  down  and  ran  his  hands  through  his  hair. 
"  I  can't  see  any  way  out !  "  he  sez  at  last ;  "  but  I  'm  forced 
to  admit  that  since  Promotheus  has  gone  down  there,  it 
would  put  him  in  danger  for  me  to  interfere." 

"  Well,"  sez  ol'  Tank,  "  here  is  The  himself.  Now,  we  '11 
know  better  what  to  do." 

We  looked  up,  and  there  was  Promotheus  with  a  bruise 
over  his  eye,  comin'  into  our  little  nook. 


CHAPTER  THIRTY-SIX 

A  SIDE-TRIP  TO  SKELTY's 

WE  all  crowded  around  him,  thinkin'  'at  the  bruise  betokened 
some  sort  of  trouble ;  but  he  said  he  'd  got  afraid  they  'd 
begin  to  suspicion  him ;  so  he  had  tried  to  ride  a  hoss  that 
day,  and  had  let  it  buck  him  off.  He  said  the'  was  n't  much 
lettin'  needed,  as  it  had  been  a  mean  one;  but  he  had  got 
his  forehead  grazed,  and  had  lain  on  the  ground,  claimin' 
his  back  was  hurt.  It  was  only  about  eight  o'clock,  and  we 
wondered  how  he  had  the  nerve  to  come  so  early;  but  he 
said  they  were  havin'  a  drinkin'  bout  over  havin'  dogged  a 
feller  by  the  name  o'  Bryce  off  his  claim  on  Ice  Crick,  thus 
gettin'  a  new  outlet  to  grass  and  water. 

He  said  the  woman  had  been  mighty  good  to  him  after 
his  fall ;  but  that  he  could  n't  get  her  to  talk  about  herself 
at  all.  "  Have  you  ever  mentioned  the  name  of  Carmichael 
to  her  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  No,"  sez  he,  "  why  should  I?  " 

"  That 's  the  Friar's  name,"  sez  I.  "  He  used  to  preach  in 
a  regular  church  down  east,  and  she  sang  in  the  choir.  Next 
time  you  get  a  chance,  try  to  draw  her  out  about  this." 

The  Friar  told  him  a  lot  o'  small  details  to  ask  her  about ; 
and  went  part  way  back  with  him,  as  he  would  n't  stay  long 
for  fear  o'  bein'  missed.  The  Friar  insisted  on  stayin'  along 
with  us,  while  Olaf  went  back  to  the  Spread. 

Two  nights  after  this  Promotheus  came  up  to  our  camp 
again.  He  said  he  had  had  several  talks  with  her,  and  that 


338  FRIAR    TUCK 

she  remembered  the  names  and  places,  all  right,  but  insisted 
that  Carmichael  was  dead.  She  said  he  often  came  to  her 
in  her  dreams ;  but  that  she  knew  he  had  died  long  ago. 

"  Does  she  ever  sing  ? "  asked  the  Friar. 

"  Never,"  sez  The.  "  She  don't  even  talk  much.  She  has 
some  sort  of  a  pain  in  her  head,  and  sometimes  she  seems  to 
wander;  but  at  other  times  she  is  perfectly  clear." 

"  Is  Ty  Jones  ever  mean  to  her  ?  "  asked  the  Friar. 

"  Never,"  sez  The.  "  Ty  ain't  mean  to  those  about  him. 
He  has  his  own  idees  —  he  likes  to  have  his  men  and  dogs 
and  hosses  all  fierce  and  nervy  —  but  he  's  not  mean  to  'em. 
And  all  the  boys  treat  her  respectful,  too.  Fact  is,  I  don't 
see  where  we  got  any  grounds  to  take  her  away." 

"  But  she  does  not  care  for  him,"  sez  the  Friar ;  "  she 
could  not  care  for  him !  He  must  have  used  trick  or  force 
to  bring  her  here ;  and  you  must  find  out  the  truth  about  it. 
It  all  depends  on  you,  now." 

"  I  'm  doin'  all  I  can,  Friar,"  sez  The ;  "  but  it 's  a  hard 
tangle  to  see  through." 

When  he  left  to  go  back,  me  an'  the  Friar  and  Horace 
went  with  him.  "  Supposin'  they  should  see  you  comin' 
back  ?  "  sez  the  Friar. 

"  Well,"  sez  The,  "  Ty  don't  keep  his  men  in  prison,  and 
I  'd  tell  'em  I  was  up  takin'  a  little  air  after  bein'  shut  away 
from  it  so  long." 

"Supposin'  they  got  suspicious  an'  follered  ya?"  asked 
the  Friar. 

"  I  try  to  be  as  careful  as  I  can,"  sez  The ;  "  but  I 
own  up  I  allus  feel  a  bit  nervous  till  I  get  back  to  my 
bunk." 

"  The  best  plan  is  for  one  of  us  to  wait  where  the  path 
leads  down  into  the  ravine  each  night  at  eleven,"  sez  the 


A    SIDE-TRIP    TO    SKELTY'S      339 

Friar.  "  We  could  go  at  ten  and  wait  until  twelve.  If  we 
went  any  closer,  the  dogs  might  get  scent  of  us." 

We  agreed  'at  this  would  be  the  best  plan ;  and  after  this, 
two  of  us  made  it  a  point  to  spend  a  couple  of  hours  waitin' 
there,  while  the  rest  stayed  at  the  look-out  ready  to  hustle 
down  if  the'  was  any  excitement ;  but  nothin'  happened  and 
we  got  purty  fidgetty. 

"  Tank,"  sez  I  one  afternoon,  "  let 's  ride  over  to  Skelty's. 
The's  generally  some  Cross-branders  there,  and  perhaps  we 
can  find  a  little  amusement." 

We  reached  there  about  seven,  and  ordered  supper.  There 
were  five  Cross-branders  there  already,  eatin'  and  drinkin'; 
and  one  of  'em  was  the  tall  feller  by  the  name  o'  Dixon.  I 
nodded  to  him  when  I  sat  down  and  he  nodded  back.  It 's 
funny  the  way  a  man  feels  when  he  goes  into  an  unfriendly 
place  to  measure  an'  be  measured.  It 's  not  like  fear,  that 
is,  not  like  panicky  fear;  but  still  I  suppose  it's  something 
like  what  a  jack-rabbit  feels  when  the  hounds  are  strung  out 
after  him.  He  knows  well  enough  what  '11  happen  if  he 
can't  run  fast  enough  —  but  then  he  takes  a  heap  of  exhilar- 
ation in  the  thought  that  he  most  certainly  can  run  fast 
enough. 

All  those  fellers  knew  something  o'  me  an'  ol'  Tank ;  while 
Dixon  was  the  only  one  we  knew,  the  rest  bein'  mostly  young 
chaps  who  had  taken  on  with  Ty  durin'  the  last  few  years ; 
but  as  most  o'  Ty's  men  were  trailed  out  o'  some  other  state 
by  a  posse,  it  was  a  safe  bet  that  they  had  more  or  less  rattler 
blood  in  'em.  They  were  all  on  friendly  terms  with  the  girls, 
and  the  girls  called  'em  by  name,  whenever  they  couldn't 
think  up  some  other  term  'at  suited  their  taste  better.  One 
o'  these  young  fellers  still  had  a  boy's  eyes ;  but  most  o'  their 
eyes  were  purty  hard  an'  chilly. 


340  FRIAR    TUCK 

I  never  did  set  any  store  on  havin'  a  strange  woman  call 
me  "  dear  " ;  and  neither  did  ol'  Tank.  With  his  eye  runnin' 
wild,  and  his  mussed-up  features,  the  term  dear  fitted  him 
about  as  snug  as  false  bangs  an'  face-powder  would;  but 
one  o'  these  young  hussies  came  over  an'  stood  behind  his 
chair,  and  sez :  "  Why  hello,  dearie,  where  have  you  been  all 
the  time?" 

"  I  've  been  over  teachin'  my  grandchildren  how  to  play 
the  pianer,"  sez  Tank.  "  Have  you  got  any  pork  an' 
beans?" 

Most  any  girl  knows  'at  most  any  man  '11  stand  for  most 
anything;  so  this  one  grabbed  hold  o'  Tank's  hair  and  gave 
it  a  pull ;  but  she  savvied  'at  he  did  n't  have  any  love  for  her, 
so  she  brought  in  his  grub,  threw  it  down  in  front  of  him, 
and  went  back  to  soft-soapin'  the  feller  with  a  boy's  eyes. 
He  was  still  young  enough  to  feel  flattered  by  it,  and  truth 
to  tell,  she  was  n't  a  bad  lookin'  girl,  except  that  she  drenched 
a  feller  so  constant  with  her  feminine  charms  that  she  washed 
away  any  hankerin's  for  'em  he  might  have  had  to  begin 
with. 

Any  healthy  woman  has  all  the  allurement  she  can  possibly 
need,  if  she  '11  just  take  care  of  it.  I  like  to  see  a  hoss  full 
o'  fire,  and  I  like  to  see  a  woman  full  of  enticement ;  but  I 
like  to  see  both  the  fire  an'  the  enticement  kept  under  good 
control,  and  not  made  to  show  out  unnecessary. 

Once,  when  I  was  in  Frisco,  I  saw  a  parade  of  the  Friendly 
Order  of  Hindu  Cats,  and  the  Grand  Thomas  Cat  o'  Creation 
rode  in  front  on  an  old  gray  hoss.  This  hoss  had  feet  like 
worn-out  brooms,  and  the'  was  knots  all  over  his  legs.  All 
he  asked  in  the  way  of  entertainment  was  to  pass  a  peaceful 
day  in  a  quiet  stable,  face  to  face  with  a  bale  of  hay;  but 
they  had  clipped  his  mane  an'  tail,  hung  a  beaded  belt  across 


A    SIDE-TRIP    TO    SKELTY'S      341 

his  brisket,  put  a  scarlet  blanket  on  him,  and  jabbed  him 
with  spurs  until  he  was  irritated  to  a  degree. 

The  feller  ridin'  him  had  learned  to  ride  in  a  barber's 
chair ;  but  he  had  a  heavy  frown,  and  a  lot  o'  gold  lace,  and 
a  big  canoe-Shaped  hat ;  and  I  have  to  admit  that  if  they  had 
tied  him  fast  to  the  saddle,  and  put  rubber  spurs  on  him,  he 
would  have  looked  the  part  like  a  picture.  Every  time  he  'd 
see  one  of  his  friends  he  'd  stab  the  hoss  on  the  off  side,  then 
jerk  back  on  the  curb,  and  smile  benevolent,  as  though  he 
intended  to  save  the  populace  from  that  fiery  steed  or  sprain 
every  bone  in  his  face. 

The  old  gray  was  as  forgivin'  a  hoss  as  I  ever  see;  but 
he  had  his  limits  as  well  as  the  rest  of  us.  For  the  first  ten 
or  fifteen  blocks,  he  'd  only  swish  his  tail  and  prance  when 
his  rider  jabbed  him  an  order  for  a  little  more  fire;  but 
finally  his  flanks  got  touchy,  and  his  sense  o'  justice  began 
to  write  the  declaration  of  independence  on  his  patience. 
This  would  have  been  the  time  an  intelligent  human  would 
have  traded  off  his  spurs  for  an  apple  or  a  lump  o'  sugar,  or 
some  other  welcome  little  peace-offerin' ;  but  just  then  the 
parade  passed  under  a  window  jammed  full  o'  the  Grand 
Thomas  Cat's  closest  friends,  and  o'  course,  they  had  to  see 
a  little  fire. 

He  straightened  out  his  legs,  and  then  clamped  the  spurs 
into  the  old  gray's  flanks.  I  had  fought  my  way  through 
the  crowd  for  fifteen  squares  just  to  see  it  happen,  and  it  was 
well  worth  it.  The  gray  was  stiff  and  awkward,  but  in  his 
youth  he  had  taken  a  few  lessons  in  buckin',  and  what  he 
lacked  in  speed  and  practice,  he  made  up  in  earnestness.  The 
Thomas  Cat  did  n't  know  any  more  about  balancing  than  a 
ball,  and  the  grip  of  his  knees  would  n't  have  put  a  dent  in 
a  pullet's  egg ;  the'  was  no  horn  to  the  saddle,  and  the  mane 


342  FRIAR    TUCK 

had  been  clipped,  so  all  he  had  to  hang  on  with  was  the  spurs 
and  the  curb  bit ;  and  things  certainly  did  happen. 

The  old  gray  pitched  and  kicked  and  reared  and  backed 
and  snorted  and  got  mixed  up  with  flags  and  citizens  and 
umbrellas  and  red-lemonade  stands  and  policemen;  until 
finally  he  scraped  off  the  Grand  Thomas  Cat  of  Creation  on 
an  awning,  and  tore  off  home,  jumpin'  and  kickin' ;  while  the 
population  threw  their  hats  in  the  air  and  yelled  their  palates 
loose.  They  threw  fruit  and  popcorn  and  friendly  advice 
at  the  Grand  Cat  as  he  hung  from  the  awning;  but  friend 
or  foe,  the'  was  n't  a  soul  in  that  crowd  to  help  him  get  down ; 
so  as  soon  as  he  got  calm  enough  to  remember  what  he  was, 
he  dropped  the  three  feet  to  the  sidewalk,  and  ran  into  the 
store  and  hid. 

If  ya  want  to  fill  a  crowd  with  content  and  satisfaction  and 
joy  and  felicity  and  such-like  items,  just  have  some  terrible 
accident  happen  to  a  popular  hero,  and  all  the  joy-wells  '11 
overflow  and  gush  forth  like  fountains —  But  what  made 
me  think  o'  this  little  incident  was  the  fact  that  this  girl  at 
Skelty's  put  the  spurs  to  her  feminine  charms  a  leetle  too 
continuous. 

Dixon,  the  Cross-brander,  was  one  o'  these  lean,  skinny 
ones,  and  as  a  rule,  I  don't  crave  to  make  their  acquaintance. 
His  Adam's  apple  ran  up  and  down  in  his  neck  like  a  dumb- 
waiter, and  the'  was  plenty  o'  distance  for  consid'able  of  a 
run.  If  ya  looked  at  just  the  part  of  him  between  his  chin 
and  his  shoulders,  he  resembled  an  ostrich,  chokin'  on  an 
orange;  but  I  decided  to  be  as  friendly  as  possible;  so  as 
soon  as  I  'd  filled  a  cigarette  paper,  I  offered  him  my  sack  o' 
tobacco.  He  took  it,  and  while  he  was  rollin'  himself  a  cigar- 
ette, he  sez :  "  I  see  you  've  cut  loose  from  your  preacher." 

"  Nope,"  sez  I,  "  he  cut  loose  from  me." 


A    SIDE-TRI  P    TO    SKELTY'S      343 

"  How  come  you  fellers  spend  so  much  time  out  this 
way  ?  "  sez  he. 

"  Nice  country  and  pleasant  folks,"  sez  I. 

"  I  've  heard  tell  'at  you  got  so  familiar  over  at  the  Dia- 
mond Dot,  that  the  old  man  turned  ya  loose,"  sez  he.  "  Is 
the'  anything  to  it  ?  " 

I  did  n't  reply  at  once.  My  first  impulse  was  to  see  if  I 
couldn't  pull  him  and  his  Adam's  apple  apart;  for  this 
wasn't  no  accident.  This  was  a  studied  insult,  and  every 
one  there  was  watchin'  to  see  what  would  happen ;  but  the' 
was  too  much  at  stake ;  so  I  gripped  myself  until  I  had  time 
to  put  that  remark  where  it  would  n't  run  any  risk  o'  spoilin' ; 
and  then  I  sez :  "  Well,  I  don't  just  like  to  have  it  put  that 
way ;  but  I  will  admit  that  you  have  n't  missed  it  so  terrible 
far." 

"  Lookin'  for  a  job? "  sez  he. 

"  Oh,  I  'm  not  carin'  much,"  sez  I.  "  I  'm  thinkin'  some 
o'  takin'  a  homestead,  or  buyin'  some  other  feller  out ;  but  I 
ain't  in  any  hurry.  I  may  go  on  down  into  Texas,  or  take 
on  again  up  here.  Any  chance  for  a  job  with  your  outfit?  " 

Durin'  the  time  I  had  been  decidin'  on  what  I  'd  say,  Dixon 
had  been  wonderin'  how  I  'd  take  it ;  and  I  don't  doubt  he 
was  some  relieved.  Anyway,  he  thawed  out  a  little.  "  Nope, 
I  hardly  think  so,"  sez  he.  "  We  've  been  hard  pushed  for 
grass  this  season ;  but  Ty  bought  a  water-right  on  Ice  Crick, 
and  things  has  smoothed  out  again.  Another  thing  is,  that 
Badger- face  has  come  back." 

I  gave  a  start  as  natural  as  life,  and  I  didn't  put  it  on, 
neither.  I  had  no  idy  he'd  mention  Badger- face  without 
a  lot  o'  pumpin'.  "Badger-face?"  sez  I.  "Good  Lord,  I 
thought  he  was  dead !  " 

"Well,  we  thought  so,  too,"  sez  Dixon.     "We  hadn't 


344  FRIAR    TUCK 

heard  a  word  from  him ;  but  he  showed  up  a  while  back,  and 
as  soon  as  he  gets  able,  he  '11  take  to  ridin'  again." 

"  What 's  wrong  with  him  ?  "  sez  I. 

"  He 's  purty  well  played  out,"  sez  Dixon.  "  He  sez  'at 
that  feller,  Bradford,  is  some  sort  of  a  government  agent. 
Now,  we  ain't  got  nothin'  again'  the  government  out  this  way, 
so  long  as  it  minds  its  own  business;  but  when  it  gets  to 
interferin'  with  our  rights,  why  it  generally  has  to  find  a 
new  agent.  You  were  along  with  this  feller,  Bradford,  when 
he  scooped  in  Badger-face;  and  I  doubt  if  that  has  slipped 
Badger's  mind  yet.  Badger's  memory  for  such  things  used 
to  be  purty  reliable." 

"  Well,  if  it  comes  to  that,"  sez  I,  "  I  'd  rather  have 
Badger-face  on  my  trail  than  Dinky  Bradford;  though  I 
own  up,  I  don't  just  know  what  government  position  Dinky 
holds." 

"  Ol'  man  Williams  there  was  along  with  ya,  too,  was  n't 
he  ?  "  sez  Dixon. 

"  Sure  he  was,"  sez  I.  "  We  got  a  heap  better  paid,  for 
that  trip  'n  we  usually  get." 

"Yes,"  sez  he,  slow  an'  drawly,  "but  a  feller  can  never 
tell  when  he  's  all  paid  out  for  such  a  trip  as  that." 

"  A  feller  has  to  take  chances  in  everything,"  sez  I.  "  I 
still  got  a  little  money  left  to  amuse  myself  with." 

"  It  don't  seem  to  make  ya  reckless,"  sez  he.  Dixon  had 
been  drinkin'  purty  freely,  and  I  rather  liked  the  effect  liquor 
had  on  him. 

"  Maxwell,"  I  called,  "  this  is  a  dry  summer.  Set  up  the 
drinks  for  the  house."  Some  saloon-keepers  fawn  on  ya  as 
if  they  'd  melt  the  money  out  o'  your  clothes  while  some  of 
'em  are  cold  and  haughty,  as  though  it  was  an  insult  to  offer 
'em  money.  Maxwell  was  one  o'  this  kind.  He  glared  his 


A    SIDE-TRI  P    TO    SKELTY'S      345 

red  eyes  at  me  as  if  I  'd  been  rude ;  but  he  set  out  the  drinks 
all  right. 

Tank  had  been  shut  away  from  drink  for  so  long  that  I 
had  plumb  forgot  how  he  had  happened  to  win  his  title ;  but 
as  soon  as  I  had  give  the  order,  I  sensed  that  he  was  in  the 
mood  to  sluice  himself  out  thorough.  The  very  minute  we 
had  cooled  off  from  the  drinks  —  Maxwell  kept  a  brand  o' 
poison  which  would  eat  holes  in  an  iron  kettle,  if  you  let 
it  set  five  minutes  —  Well,  the  very  instant  the  steam  had 
stopped  comin'  out  of  our  mouths,  Tank  ordered  a  round; 
and  before  that  had  got  on  good  terms  with  the  first  drink, 
Spider  Kelley  had  arrived. 

Mexican  Slim  had  guessed  where  we  were  headin'  for,  and 
Tank  had  owned  up  to  it,  and  Slim  had  told  Spider,  and,  o' 
course,  Spider  had  n't  been  able  to  stay  behind ;  so  when  he 
stuck  his  nose  in  the  door,  Tank  sez  'at  the  drinks  was  always 
on  the  last-comer,  and  Spider  ordered  a  round. 

I  can  journey  about  with  a  fair  amount  o'  booze,  without 
lettin'  it  splash  over  into  my  conversation ;  but  I  was  there 
on  business,  so  I  drank  as  short  drinks  as  would  seem  so- 
ciable. Tank,  on  the  other  hand,  had  formerly  been  as  im- 
mune to  liquor  as  a  glass  bottle;  but  he  was  out  o'  practice 
without  realizin'  it;  and  he  splashed  into  Maxwell's  forty- 
rod  as  though  he  was  a  trout  hurryin'  back  to  his  native 
element.  Spider  was  a  wise  old  rat,  and  he  played  safe,  the 
same  as  me.  O'  course,  the  Cross-branders  could  n't  stand 
by  and  see  us  purchase  Maxwell's  entire  stock,  without 
makin'  a  few  bids  themselves ;  so  for  a  while,  we  peered  at 
the  ceiling  purty  tol'able  frequent. 

The  young  feller  with  the  boy's  eyes  was  chin-ful  to  begin 
with,  the  other  three  Cross-branders  were  purty  well  cal- 
loused to  a  liberal  supply  o'  turpentine ;  while  Dixon  would 


346  FRIAR    TUCK 

load  up  his  dumb-waiter  and  send  it  down  as  unconcerned 
as  though  his  throat  was  a  lead  pipe,  connectin'  with  an  irri- 
gation ditch.  He  had  reached  the  stage  where  he  was  reck- 
less but  not  thoughtless,  and  the'  didn't  seem  any  way  to 
wash  him  down  grade  any  farther. 

"  Any  more  o'  you  fellers  liable  to  drop  in  ?  "  sez  he,  lookin' 
at  me.  I  waved  my  hand  towards  Spider,  as  though  he,  bein' 
the  last  to  arrive,  would  have  the  latest  news;  and  Spider 
sez :  "  Nope,  I  reckon  not.  Leastwise,  not  so  far  as  I 
know." 

"  Badger-face  has  come  back  and  taken  on  with  Ty  again," 
sez  I. 

"  The  hell  he  has !  "  exclaimed  Spider,  just  as  I  knew  he 
would. 

"  Yes,"  sez  Dixon  with  an  evil  chuckle,  "  he  's  come  back, 
and  I  doubt  if  he  'd  feel  any  sorrow  at  meetin'  up  with  some 
o'  you  boys." 

"  As  far  as  I  remember,"  sez  ol'  Tank,  bulkin'  up  as  pon- 
derous as  a  justice  o'  the  peace,  "  I  don't  recall  havin'  asked 
Badger's  permission  to  do  anything  in  the  past,  and  I  don't 
intend  to  begin  now." 

"  Well,"  sez  Dixon,  "  I  don't  mind  tellin'  ya  that  Ty  Jones 
ain't  so  sure  o'  Badger  as  he  used  to  be ;  and  nothin'  would 
suit  him  so  well  as  to  see  Badger  cut  loose  and  get  some  o' 
you  fellers  for  helpin'  to  have  him  railroaded." 

This  surprised  me.  Dixon  did  n't  seem  a  shade  worse  'n 
he  'd  been  when  Spider  arrived,  but  he  'd  sure  enough 
leaked  out  the  news  I  was  after.  Ty  was  suspicious  o'  Pro- 
motheus,  and  we  'd  have  to  finish  our  job  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible. I  did  n't  want  to  start  anything  at  Skelty's  so  I  pro- 
posed a  little  friendly  poker.  The  Kid  was  asleep  in  the 
corner;  so  the  seven  of  us  played  stud  for  an  hour  or  so 


A    SIDE-TRI  P    TO     SKELTY'S      347 

until  Tank  fell  out  of  his  chair,  and  then  we  broke  up  for  the 
night. 

Tank  was  all  in ;  so  we  had  to  put  him  to  bed,  and  the  Kid 
had  to  be  put  to  bed,  also;  but  Dixon  and  the  other  three 
took  a  final  drink  and  started  back  to  Ty's. 


CHAPTER   THIRTY-SEVEN 

PROMOTHEUS   IN    THE  TOILS 

TANK  weighed  like  a  beef  when  he  got  liquor-loose,  and  it 
was  all  me  and  Spider  could  do  to  get  him  to  bed.  His  legs 
were  like  rubber;  but  he  insisted  on  tellin'  us  what  he 
thought  about  things.  He  begged  us  to  start  back  and  let 
him  ride,  sayin'  that  it  was  only  the  heat  o'  the  room,  not  the 
drink,  which  had  upset  him ;  but  he  was  in  no  shape  to  ride 
a  hay  wagon,  so  we  put  him  to  bed. 

"  I  think  more  o'  the  Friar  than  of  airy  other  man  I 
know,"  he  sez  to  us  at  the  head  o'  the  stairs ;  "  but  I  own  up 
'at  I  don't  take  kindly  to  religion ;  and  I  '11  tell  ya  why. 
The's  hundreds  an'  dozens  of  hymns  to  the  doggone  sheep- 
herders;  but  the'  ain't  one  single  one  to  the  cow-punchers. 
Now,  what  I  sez  is  this,  if  ya  want  to  round  me  up  in  a  reli- 
gion, you  got  to  find  one  'at  has  hymns  to  cattle  men." 

We  did  n't  bother  to  explain  it  to  him,  'cause  he  was  n't  in 
condition  to  know  a  parable  from  a  pair  o'  boots.  We 
dragged  him  along  the  hall  and  flung  him  on  his  bed.  By 
chance  we  put  him  on  the  bed  with  his  boots  on  the  piller ; 
but  he  went  sound  asleep  the  moment  he  stretched  out ;  so 
we  just  hung  his  hat  on  his  toe,  folded  the  blanket  over  him, 
locked  the  door,  put  the  key  in  my  pocket,  and  went  across 
the  hall  to  our  own  room. 

I  did  n't  want  to  harbor  that  liquor  any  longer  'n  I  had  to, 
so  me  an'  Spider  slipped  down,  got  some  salt  an'  mustard, 
soaked  it  in  water,  drenched  ourselves  —  and  repented  of 


PROMOTHEUS    IN    THE    TOILS    349 

havin'  been  such  fools.  Then  we  went  up  to  bed.  It  had 
been  some  time  since  we  had  stretched  out  on  springs,  and 
we  were  cordial  for  sleep;  so  we  mingled  with  it  in  short 
order. 

Still,  I  was  n't  easy  in  my  mind,  and  twice  I  woke  up  arid 
went  into  the  hall;  but  I  couldn't  hear  anything,  though  I 
had  a  feelin'  that  the'd  been  some  good  cause  for  my  wakin' 
up.  I  lay  on  the  bed  the  last  time  with  my  mind  made  up  to 
watch.  Skelty's  had  allus  had  the  name  o'  bein'  a  tough 
joint,  and  this  red-eyed  Maxwell  with  his  Injun  hair  was  n't 
of  the  kind  to  purify  it  to  such  an  extent  that  the  old  cus- 
tomers would  n't  feel  at  home. 

As  I  lay  there,  I  saw  the  window  rise,  slow  and  careful. 
The'  was  n't  any  moon ;  but  I  could  see  a  hand  in  the  star- 
light. I  made  up  my  mind  to  sneak  out  o'  bed,  grab  the 
hand,  pull  it  in  to  the  shoulder,  and  then  throw  all  my  weight 
on  it,  and  yell  for  Spider.  I  got  up  as  noiseless  as  cider 
turnin'  into  vinegar  —  and  then  upset  a  confounded  chair, 
which  sounded  like  two  houses  runnin'  together. 

The  window  dropped  with  a  bang;  and  at  the  same  mo- 
ment the'  came  a  shriek  from  across  the  hall,  followed  by 
some  scufflin'  and  the  sound  o'  broken  glass.  After  this  all 
we  heard  was  Tank's  voice  tryin'  to  explain  his  opinion  o' 
that  part  o'  the  country  and  all  its  inhabitants.  I  had  thought 
that  Tank  had  discarded  most  of  his  profanity ;  but  by  the 
time  we  had  got  our  guns  and  crossed  the  hall  to  him,  I 
changed  my  mind.  When  I  put  the  key  in  the  lock,  he  sug- 
gested to  us  what  was  likely  to  happen  to  any  unfriendly  in- 
dividuals who  attempted  to  enter  that  particular  room. 

I  told  him  gently  to  stuff  the  piller  into  his  mouth,  if  he 
could  n't  find  any  other  way  to  stop  his  yappin' ;  and  then  I 
unlocked  the  door,  just  as  Maxwell  and  his  bartender  came 


35o  FRIAR    TUCK 

into  the  hall.  The  bartender  had  one  gun  and  one  candle, 
and  Maxwell  had  two  guns. 

When  we  opened  the  door,  there  was  Tank  with  the  blood 
runnin'  down  his  leg,  while  he  stood  in  a  corner  of  the  room 
holdin'  his  weapon  up  above  his  shoulder.  "  What 's  the 
matter  with  you  ?  "  I  sez,  a  little  cross. 

"  I  'm  homesick,  you  blame  ijiot!  "  sez  Tank.  "  What  else 
would  likely  be  the  matter  with  me  ?  "  Tank  was  about  as 
far  out  o'  humor  as  I  ever  saw  him  get. 

Maxwell  came  in  and  looked  at  the  pool  of  blood.  "  Don't 
stand  there  and  bleed  on  the  floor,"  sez  he. 

Tank  looked  at  him  baleful.  "  What  do  ya  wish  me  to  do 
—  upset  your  rotten  dive  and  bleed  on  the  ceilin'  ?  "  sez  he. 
"  I  did  n't  come  here  determined  to  smear  up  your  place  with 
my  life  blood ;  and  I  want  ya  to  understand  that  I  did  n't 
punch  this  hole  in  myself  simply  to  cool  off.  I  know  what 
you  're  afraid  of  —  You  're  scared  that  some  o'  your  liquor 
has  got  into  my  blood,  an'  that  it'll  leak  out  and  set  your 
floor  on  fire." 

"  You  run  get  a  bucket  for  him  to  bleed  into,"  sez  Max- 
well to  the  bartender. 

"  Yes,"  sez  Tank,  sarcastic ;  "  and  be  sure  to  get  a  big 
one,  as  I  am  minded  to  draw  off  all  o'  my  blood,  just  to  see 
how  much  I  have  in  me  at  this  time  o'  the  year." 

Say  in'  which,  Tank  walked  over  an'  sittin'  on  the  bed, 
held  out  his  boot  for  me  to  pull  off.  He  had  been  stabbed 
through  the  leg,  through  the  thick  part  o'  the  calf,  and  a  jet 
was  spoutin'  out  of  the  top  cut,  and  a  steady  stream  oozin' 
from  the  bottom  one.  I  put  my  finger  knuckle  above  the 
top  jet,  and  the  palm  of  my  other  hand  over  the  lower  one, 
and  then  sent  Maxwell  after  a  small  rope  and  some  bandages. 

While  he  was  gone,  a  couple  o'  the  girls  strolled  down 


PROMOTHEUS    IN    THE    TOILS    351 

the  hall  to  see  what  the  excitement  was ;  but  Tank  began  to 
lecture  about  morals  and  manners,  and  they  didn't  bother 
us  long.  We  patched  Tank  up  in  good  order,  and  made 
him  lie  down  again.  He  said  that  he  had  been  woke  up 
when  his  leg  got  stabbed,  and  had  grappled  with  a  man ;  but 
the  man  had  got  out  the  window  again. 

Skelty  had  built  his  place  on  a  side  hill.  The  bar  and 
dinin'  hall  was  in  front,  and  a  small  dance  hall  and  kitchen 
back  of  it.  Upstairs  were  bedrooms,  and  the  ground  sloped 
so,  that  the  back  rooms  were  only  about  five  feet  from  the 
ground.  This  made  the  downstairs  easier  to  heat  in  winter 
—  and  it  was  also  convenient  for  any  one  who  wanted  to 
get  in  through  a  window. 

Me  and  Spider  ate  breakfast  next  mornin';  but  we 
would  n't  let  Tank  eat,  rememberin'  the  Friar's  rules  for 
wounds.  When  we  started  away,  Tank  insisted  on  goin' 
along;  so  we  had  to  ride  slow.  We  went  north,  instead  of 
in  the  direction  we  wanted  to  go,  for  fear  some  one  might 
be  spyin'  on  us.  I  was  mighty  sorry  we  had  come,  even 
though  I  had  found  out  that  Promotheus  was  under  sus- 
picion; and  as  soon  as  we  had  come  to  a  pass  where  we 
could  see  a  good  distance  in  all  directions,  I  sent  Spider  on 
a  circle  to  tell  the  boys  to  bring  things  to  a  head  as  soon  as 
possible. 

Tank's  leg  ached  him  consid'able;  and  we  had  to  ride 
purty  slow;  but  by  noon  we  had  come  to  the  Simpsons' 
cabin.  We  told  'em  that  Ty  Jones  was  suspicious  about 
the  Greasers  and  intended  to  get  square  with  all  who  had 
took  a  hand  in  removin'  'em ;  so  they  agreed  to  stand  with 
us  whenever  we  were  ready  to  make  a  raid  on  Ty. 

I  made  Tank  lie  down  all  afternoon,  and  drink  all  the 
water  he  could  swallow,  but  that  night  when  I  started  to 


352  FRIAR    TUCK 

ride  over  to  the  look-out,  he  insisted  on  goin'  along.  It  was 
a  hard  ride,  and  I  wanted  him  to  wait  until  the  next  night, 
but  he  tagged  along,  so  I  had  to  ride  slow.  We  had  figured 
out  that  the  feller  who  had  tried  to  get  him  had  seen  the 
hat  on  his  foot  at  the  head  o'  the  bed;  and  before  he  had 
had  time  to  locate  him  proper,  the  noise  the  other  one  had 
made  slammin'  the  window  to  my  room  had  scared  him, 
so  he  had  taken  his  stab  haphazard. 

This  must  'a'  been  the  way,  'cause  when  drinkin',  Tank 
was  usually  a  regular  long  range  snorer,  and  only  a  hurried 
man  would  have  mistaken  his  feet  for  his  head.  Tank  in- 
sisted that  he  had  seen  the  feller's  outline  again'  the  window, 
and  that  it  had  been  Dixon.  I  doubted  this ;  but  Tank  in- 
sisted that  the  feller  had  had  a  neck  like  a  beer  bottle,  and 
then  I  had  to  give  in. 

We  didn't  reach  camp  until  sun-up,  and  then  we  found 
'at  Promotheus  had  been  there  the  night  before,  with  word 
that  he  had  had  a  long  talk  with  the  woman,  who  had  been 
in  the  most  rational  mood  he  had  ever  seen  her  in.  He  had 
drawn  her  into  tellin'  him  all  she  could  remember.  She  had 
told  him  about  havin'  her  head  full  o'  pictures ;  but  not  bein' 
able  to  tell  the  real  ones  from  those  she  had  dreamed.  She 
said  she  had  lost  the  key  to  them  and  could  not  understand 
'em,  that  she  remembered  havin'  sung  on  many  different 
platforms,  but  could  not  tell  where  or  when,  and  could  not 
sing  any  more,  though  she  sometimes  tried.  She  said  that 
whenever  he  said  the  name  Carmichael,  she  saw  the  pic- 
ture of  a  young  man  in  white  robes,  but  that  he  had  died. 
When  Promotheus  had  tried  to  make  her  understand  that 
he  was  still  alive,  she  had  become  frightened,  and  told  him 
never  to  speak  the  name  again. 

He  asked  her  about  the  Winter  Garden  in  Berlin,  and  she 


PROMOTHEUS     IN    THE    TOILS    353 

said  'at  this  called  up  the  picture  of  a  man  with  curled-up 
mustaches,  and  then  she  had  covered  her  eyes,  and  told  him 
he  must  not  mention  this  again,  either.  Horace  was  tellin' 
me  all  this ;  and  when  he  finished,  I  sez :  "  Well,  if  this  is 
the  most  rational  she  has  ever  got,  she  'd  be  a  nice  one  to 
handle  in  her  usual  condition.  I  don't  see  what  we  're  to 
do ;  but  we  have  to  move  fast,  as  Ty  Jones  is  suspicious." 

The  next  night  the  Friar  and  I  were  down  at  the  head  of 
the  path  leadin'  into  the  ravine  when  Prometheus  came.  He 
said  that  Dixon  had  come  in  with  his  face  cut,  and  had  told 
about  seein'  us  over  at  Skelty's,  and  how  we  had  bragged 
about  gettin'  him  rail-roaded,  and  Dixon  and  the  others  had 
told  him  they  were  ready  to  back  him  up  any  time  he  wanted 
to  go  an'  get  even.  He  also  said  'at  Ty  had  been  roastin' 
the  whole  gang  of  'em  for  bein'  afraid  of  Olaf,  and  advised 
us  to  warn  Olaf  to  be  on  guard.  He  said  the  woman  had 
told  him  that  day  that  at  all  times  she  had  a  dull  pain  in 
the  top  part  of  her  head.  The  was  beginnin'  to  get  worried, 
this  was  plain  to  see,  and  he  did  n't  stay  very  long. 

When  we  told  the  others  what  he  had  said,  we  decided 
it  was  our  duty  to  go  and  tell  Olaf  that  very  night,  so  that 
he  could  send  over  the  next  day  and  get  a  couple  o'  the 
Simpson  boys  to  come  over  and  help  watch  his  place  at 
night,  until  we  were  ready  to  finish  with  Ty.  We  wanted 
to  put  it  off  as  long  as  possible,  as  Ty  would  soon  be  in  the 
fall  round-up  and  there  wouldn't  be  so  many  men  at  the 
home  place. 

Mexican  Slim  and  Tillte  Dutch  started  to  ride  to  Olaf 's ; 
but  I  was  restless  that  night,  so  I  rode  along  with  'em.  Just 
before  we  reached  the  Spread,  we  saw  a  bright  light  at  the 
side  o'  the  cabin.  In  a  minute  two  other  lights  shot  up,  and 
we  knew  they  were  firm'  brush  at  the  side  of  it.  We  threw 


354  FRIAR    TUCK 

in  the  spurs  and  rode,  keepin'  close  watch.  Two  men  rode 
towards  us,  and  we  drew  off  to  the  side  of  the  road.  Just 
as  they  got  opposite,  we  ordered  'em  to  halt;  but  they 
whirled  and  fired  at  us.  We  fired  back,  and  started  after 
'em ;  but  it  was  dark  in  the  cottonwoods,  and  they  gave  us 
the  slip  and  got  away. 

When  we  reached  the  cabin,  we  saw  it  was  doomed. 
Piles  o'  brush  had  been  heaped  on  all  sides  of  it  and  fired 
one  after  the  other.  Everything  was  so  dry  that  even  the 
dirt  on  the  roof  would  have  burned,  and  there  was  nothing 
to  do.  Kit  with  the  boy  in  her  arms,  and  Olaf  and  Oscar 
beside  her  were  standin'  close  by,  watchin'  it  burn,  and  they 
felt  mighty  bitter.  We  told  'em  why  we  had  come,  and 
advised  'em  to  go  and  leave  Kit  with  the  Simpsons,  and 
come  to  our  camp  the  next  night.  Then  we  rode  back 
before  daylight  and  told  the  others  what  had  happened. 
We  were  all  purty  hosstile.  Settin'  fire  to  a  cabin  with  a 
sleepin'  woman  inside  wasn't  no  fair  way  o'  fightin'. 

That  afternoon  as  we  were  watchin'  the  ranch  through 
the  field  glasses,  we  saw  the  woman  and  Prometheus  walkin' 
together  toward  a  little  open  space  in  the  cottonwoods 
where  the'  was  some  grass  close  to  the  edge  o'  the  crick. 
Thick  bushes  was  all  about  this  place,  and  it  was  cool  and 
pleasant  in  the  heat  o'  the  day.  They  hadn't  been  gone 
very  long  when  we  saw  two  others  sneakin'  after  them.  I 
looked  through  the  glasses,  and  one  appeared  to  be  the 
skinny  feller,  Dixon,  and  the  other,  the  Chinese  cook.  We 
saw  'em  sneak  into  the  bushes  and  disappear  close  to  where 
the  woman  and  Promotheus  were  sittin'.  Part  o'  the  time 
they  talked  together,  and  part  of  the  time  she  read  to  him 
out  of  a  book. 

We  fair  ached  to  yell  to  'em  and  put  'em  on  their  guard ; 


PROMOTHEUS    IN    THE    TOILS    355 

but  all  we  could  do  was  to  sit  up  above  in  our  look-out, 
feelin'  weak  and  useless.  I  suppose  we  felt  like  a  mother 
bird  when  she  sees  some  inhuman  human  foolin'  about  her 
nest. 

After  a  time  the  Chink  crept  out  and  scurried  along  to 
the  old  house.  He  bounced  across  the  porch,  all  crouched 
over,  and  we  knew  he  had  some  evil  tale  to  cheer  up  his 
yellow  soul  with.  In  half  a  minute,  Ty  came  out  with  him 
and  follered  him  into  the  clump  o'  bushes.  We  could  see 
the  woman  and  Promotheus  plain,  with  our  naked  eyes.  It 
was  a  good  thing,  too;  for  Horace  hung  on  to  his  glasses 
as  though  they  were  life  preservers. 

In  about  ten  minutes,  the  bushes  parted,  and  Ty  stepped 
into  the  open  space  in  front  of  'em.  Promotheus  got  to  his 
feet  slow,  but  the  woman  sat  still,  and  did  n't  seem  much 
interested.  ' 

Ty  glared  at  Promotheus  durin'  the  few  minutes  he  was 
questionin'  him,  and  then  they  all  went  back  towards  the 
ranch  house.  The  woman  went  on  to  her  own  cabin,  and 
Ty  blew  on  the  horn  which  hung  at  the  side  of  the  door, 
and  that  sneak  of  a  Dixon  came  on  the  run,  as  though  he 
had  no  idee  what  was  wanted.  Actin'  under  orders  from 
Ty,  he  took  The's  gun  and  then  tied  his  hands  behind  him 
and  shut  him  up  in  an  out  buildin'  near  the  stables.  There 
did  n't  appear  to  be  any  one  else  about  the  ranch,  and  I  sug- 
gested that  we  make  a  rush  and  take  possession  right  then. 

While  we  were  debatin'  it,  we  saw  the  punchers  comin' 
in  from  the  east,  across  the  crick.  There  were  about  a  dozen 
of  'em,  strung  out  and  ridin'  hard  the  way  they  generally 
rode. 

"  They  're  likely  to  string  him  up  this  very  night,"  sez  I ; 
"  and  we  '11  have  to  settle  this  business  before  sun-up." 


356  FRIAR    TUCK 

"  They  are  not  likely  to  be  in  any  hurry,"  sez  the  Friar. 
"  If  we  go  to-night  it  will  mean  a  lot  o'  bloodshed.  To- 
morrow they  will  go  out  on  the  range  again,  and  we  stand 
a  good  chance  of  rescuing  him  without  even  a  fight." 

Olaf,  of  course,  sided  with  the  Friar,  Horace  sided  with 
me,  and  we  had  a  purty  heated  discussion.  The  Friar  ar- 
gued that  he  had  the  most  at  stake  and  had  a  right  to  select 
the  plan  with  the  least  risk.  I  argued  that  Promotheus  had 
the  most  at  stake,  and  we  had  no  right  to  take  risk  into 
account.  We  got  purty  excited,  I  usin'  the  word  coward 
freely,  while  the  Friar  stuck  to  the  word  folly  and  kept 
cooler  'n  I  did.  He  finally  won  'em  over  to  a  compromise. 
We  were  to  go  down  close  and  keep  watch  durin'  the  night ; 
but  not  to  make  a  rush  until  we  saw  Promotheus  actually 
in  instant  danger. 


CHAPTER   THIRTY-EIGHT 

OLAF   RUNS   THE  BLOCKADE 

TY  JONES  had  been  as  wise  as  a  fox  when  he  located  his 
ranch  house.  It  sat  on  high  ground,  while  back  of  it  rose 
a  cliff ;  so  'at  the  only  way  you  could  get  to  it  without  ropes 
from  the  back,  was  through  the  little  ravine.  The  cliffs 
circled  around  to  the  crick  on  both  sides,  and  the  crick  was 
so  full  o'  rocks  that  the'  was  only  two  places  a  hoss  could 
cross.  He  had  strung  barb  wire  through  the  cottonwoods  in 
a  regular  tangle  along  the  crick,  and  the  only  places  he  had 
to  watch  in  case  of  an  attack,  were  the  ravine  and  these 
two  fords.  He  could  see  for  miles  in  all  directions  by  goin' 
to  the  head  o'  the  ravine;  and  you  could  hardly  pick  out 
a  purtier  place  for  a  last-stand  'n  the  one  he  had  selected. 

The  new  cabin  for  the  woman  was  right  in  front  o'  the 
mouth  o'  the  ravine,  the  old  cabin  a  hundred  yards  or  so 
farther  on,  the  cook-house  and  the  Chink's  quarters  to  the 
north  o'  this,  the  mess-hall  for  the  men  to  the  east  of  this,  the 
barn,  wagon-sheds,  workshop,  and  so  on,  some  distance  to 
the  south,  and  the  bunk-shack  a  little  to  the  north  of  the 
stables.  He  had  several  corrals  back  o'  the  barn  and  a  pas- 
ture of  about  thirty  acres  shut  in  by  a  wire  fence. 

After  I  had  cooled  off  a  little,  I  saw  that  the  Friar  was 
right.  The  thing  we  could  n't  tell  was,  just  how  much  they 
had  forced  Promotheus  to  confess.  If  they  had  simply 
got  Ty  jealous  that  he  was  try  in'  to  get  the  woman  away, 
we  might  make  it  all  the  worse  by  chargin'  down  on  'e.mj 


358  FRIAR    TUCK 

while  on  the  other  hand  he  might  have  told  where  we  were, 
and  Ty  might  take  it  into  his  head  to  try  to  get  us  all.  This 
last  would  have  been  the  finest  thing  'at  could  happen  to  us ; 
but  the'  was  no  way  to  tell ;  so  after  eatin'  supper,  we  went 
down  to  the  edge  o'  the  cliff  to  see  what  we  could  see. 

We  were  most  of  us  surprised  to  see  how  far  the  cabin 
stood  from  the  cliff.  In  lookin'  down  from  our  look-out,  we 
had  failed  to  take  the  slope  into  account  so  it  had  looked  as 
though  we  had  been  able  to  see  the  woman  the  minute  she 
had  come  out  o'  the  mouth  of  the  ravine,  while  the  fact  was 
the  cabin  stood  several  hundred  feet  from  the  mouth.  If 
it  had  n't  been  for  the  confounded  dogs,  we  could  have  gone 
down  and  found  out  what  we  wanted  to  know.  We  made 
some  remarks  about  those  dogs  which  would  have  seared 
their  hair  off  if  they  'd  'a'  been  a  little  closer. 

The  light  was  kept  in  the  mess-hall  long  after  time  to 
finish  eatin' ;  and  we  guessed  they  were  tryin'  Promotheus, 
right  while  we  were  lookin'  on  from  above.  All  of  a  sud- 
den, Olaf  struck  his  palm  with  his  fist,  and  exclaimed: 
"  What  a  fool  I  have  been !  Those  dogs  remembered  Pro- 
motheus, and  he  never  patted  'em.  I  have  patted  'em  and 
spoke  soothin'  words  to  'em,  and  they  would  know  me.  I 
shall  go  down  and  listen." 

Now  this  was  a  noble  thought  and  we  had  n't  a  word  to 
say  again'  it ;  so  Olaf  went  back  to  camp,  shed  his  boots  and 
put  on  moccasins.  Slim  was  a  good  shot  with  a  rifle,  so  he 
staid  with  Horace,  who  had  an  elephant  gun  and  a  yearnin' 
to  use  it,  up  on  the  cliff  above  the  mouth  o'  the  ravine.  They 
had  seven  rifles  of  one  kind  and  another,  and  they  thought 
they  could  make  a  disturbance  if  Olaf  started  anything. 
The  rest  of  us  went  down  the  ravine  to  the  last  curve.  We 
tried  to  get  the  Friar  to  stay  behind ;  but  his  blood  was  up, 


OLAF    RUNS    THE    BLOCKADE     359 

and  he  would  n't  heed  us.  We  had  it  made  up  to  rope  and 
tie  him  hand  and  foot,  when  we  were  finally  ready  to  wind 
things  up  with  Ty  Jones. 

Olaf  left  us  with  his  big-,  hard  face  set  into  rigid  lines. 
He  had  a  long  score  to  settle  with  Ty  Jones,  and  he  had 
made  a  funny  gruntin'  hum  in  his  throat  every  few  steps  as 
we  had  walked  down  the  ravine.  We  waited  what  seemed 
weeks;  but  the'  was  no  uproar,  and  finally,  he  came  out  o' 
the  gloom,  and  spoke  to  us  in  a  whisper.  We  went  back 
with  him  to  the  top  o'  the  path  before  he  told  us  what  he 
had  heard. 

He  said  they  were  tryin'  to  make  Prometheus  confess 
who  was  back  of  him;  but  that  Promotheus  had  steadily 
refused.  He  said  'at  Ty  had  told  him  over  and  over  that 
if  he  would  tell  him  where  he  could  lay  hands  on  either  the 
Friar  or  Dinky  Bradford,  he  would  give  him  a  month  to 
get  out  o'  the  country  himself;  but  Promotheus  had  stood 
firm,  and  they  had  shut  him  up  in  the  workshop  again, 
tellin'  him  he  would  get  nothin'  but  water  until  he  did 
confess. 

This  made  us  some  easier  in  our  minds.  Promotheus  had 
acted  so  worn  out  and  done  up  since  his  return,  that  he  had 
fooled  Ty ;  and  Ty  looked  upon  him  as  a  broke-down  man, 
and  nothin'  but  a  tool  in  the  hands  of  some  stronger  men. 
Olaf  said  'at  Ty  acted  as  though  he  thought  the  Friar  had 
sent  in  a  report  to  the  government,  and  had  got  Bradford 
to  come  out  here  the  time  that  Promotheus  had  disappeared ; 
and  in  some  way  they  had  got  word  o'  Horace  comin' 
through  Bosco  this  last  time.  Dixon  had  told  about  seein' 
us  at  Skelty's,  and  a  strange  feller  told  about  bein'  shot  at, 
the  night  Olaf's  cabin  had  been  fired.  They  bunched  all 
this  together,  and  decided  'at  the  best  thing  to  do  was  to 


36o  FRIAR    TUCK 

trade  Prometheus  for  Horace  or  the  Friar,  if  it  could  be 
done.  I  had  a  chuckle  all  to  myself,  when  I  pictured  Horace 
as  he  had  been  when  I  took  him  in  hand,  and  now  with  the 
reputation  he  hadn't  quite  earned,  bein'  a  worry  to  the 
Ty  Jones  outfit. 

"  I  allus  said  they  were  cowards,"  sez  Horace,  as  soon  as 
Olaf  had  finished  his  tale.  "  A  man  's  got  an  imagination, 
and  as  soon  as  he  starts  to  live  like  a  wolf,  this  imagination 
fills  the  world  with  watchdogs.  Ty  Jones  never  has  fought 
in  the  open,  and  we  '11  have  no  trouble  with  him  as  soon  as 
we  once  get  him  on  the  run." 

"  Ty  Jones  has  no  fear,"  sez  Olaf.  "  I  know ;  I  have  seen 
with  my  own  eyes.  He  is  too  clever  to  be  trapped ;  but  he 
has  no  fear." 

"Well,  wait  and  see,"  sez  Horace. 

Me  and  Tank  kept  watch  on  the  cliff  until  mornin'  and 
then  as  nothin'  had  happened,  we  went  up  to  camp,  and  Slim 
and  Dutch  took  watch  at  our  regular  look-out.  As  we  sat 
down  to  breakfast,  we  noticed  'at  the  Friar  was  gone.  Sev- 
eral spoke  of  him  havin'  been  restless  the  night  before  and 
not  turnin'  in  when  the  rest  did.  The  Friar  allus  was  un- 
regular  in  his  habits,  especially  at  night ;  so  we  did  n't  pay 
much  heed  to  him  when  he  wrote  by  the  fire,  or  went  off  by 
himself  in  the  quiet  starlight,  to  sing  some  o'  the  pressure 
off  his  heart ;  but  at  such  a  time  as  this,  we  anticipated  him 
to  be  as  circumspect  as  possible. 

We  started  to  hunt  him  up,  but  it  did  n't  take  long. 
Horace  found  a  note  pinned  to  the  Friar's  tarp,  and  the  note 
told  us  that  he  had  thought  it  all  over  careful  durin'  the 
night,  and  had  decided  that  his  duty  compelled  him  to  go 
down  and  offer  himself  in  exchange  for  Promotheus.  He 
said  that  when  things  came  to  such  a  tangle  that  no  human 


OLAF    RUN'S    THE    BLOCKADE     361 

ingenuity  could  unmix  'em,  it  was  time  to  put  trust  in  a 
higher  power;  that  it  was  for  him  that  Promotheus  had 
risked  his  life,  and  that  he  felt  he  must  take  his  place,  as 
Ty  had  promised  to  let  Promotheus  go  if  he  would  betray 
him.  He  said  that  he  could  not  see  any  way  to  help  the 
woman,  and  that  if  he  lost  his  life,  for  us  not  to  think  of 
revenge,  as  it  would  all  turn  out  for  the  best  in  some  myste- 
rious way.  The  Friar  had  gone  through  a  lot  durin'  the 
last  few  years,  and  it  had  finally  undermined  his  patience. 
I  knew  just  how  he  felt:  he  wanted  something  to  happen 
which  would  end  his  suspense,  and  he  did  n't  care  much 
what  it  was. 

As  soon  as  Horace  had  finished  readin',  we  all  sat  around 
in  complete  silence,  gawkin'  at  each  other.  "  Things  has 
finally  come  to  a  head,"  sez  Spider  Kelley,  solemnly. 

"  There  now,  that 's  the  Christian  religion !  "  exclaimed 
Horace.  "  The  Christian  religion  is  founded  on  self-sacri- 
fice and  martyrdom,  and  all  those  who  get  it  bad  enough 
spend  the  bulk  o'  their  time  on  the  lookout  to  be  martyrs 
and  sacrifice  theirselves  for  something  —  and  they  don't 
care  much  what  for.  Look  at  the  crusades  —  the  flower  o' 
Europe  was  lured  into  the  desert  and  dumped  there  like 
worn-out  junk,  even  children  were  offered  up  in  this  sacri- 
fice. Nothing  but  sentimentality,  rank  sentimentality. 
Now,  when  the  ancient  Greeks  —  " 

"  The  thing  for  us,  is  to  decide  on  what  we  're  to  do  next, 
not  what  the  ancient  Greeks  did  a  few  thousand  years  before 
we  were  born,"  sez  I.  "  There  is  no  use  hidin'  any  longer. 
The  strongest  card  we  have  up  our  sleeve  is  the  fake  repu- 
tation of  Dinky  Bradford,  and  what  we  must  do  is  to  make 
up  the  best  plan  to  play  it." 

"  Why  do  you  say  fake  reputation  ?  "  demanded  Horace. 


362  FRIAR    TUCK 

"  Well,  you  're  not  a  government  agent,  are  ya  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  No,"  sez  he ;   "  but  at  the  same  time  —  " 

"  I  did  n't  say  'at  you  was  a  fake,  Horace,"  sez  I  in  a 
soothin'  voice.  "  I  merely  intimated  that  the  things  Ty 
Jones  most  fears  about  you  are  the  things  which  were 
not  so." 

"  I  see  what  you  mean,"  sez  Horace,  "  and  it 's  all  right. 
What 's  your  plan?  " 

"  Well,  as  soon  as  we  are  sure  'at  the  Friar  has  reached 
Ty's,"  sez  I,  "  we  '11  send  Ty  word  to  deliver  him  back  at 
once,  and  to  appoint  a  meetin'  place  to  explain  things  to  us. 
Not  make  any  threats  nor  bluffs  nor  nothin'.  Just  a  plain, 
simple  statement  of  what  we  want  done,  and  sign  your  name 
to  it." 

"  I  think  it  would  be  better  to  tell  him  we  had  his  place 
surrounded,"  said  Horace. 

"  Nope,"  said  I,  "  your  old  theory  is  best :  let  their  imagi- 
nations supply  the  details.  If  we  put  the  government  into 
their  minds  too  strong,  they  're  likely  to  find  some  way  to 
deliver  Promotheus  over  to  the  law.  I  have  a  sort  of  im- 
pediment that  The  was  a  little  rough  with  an  officer  or  two, 
after  he  deserted,  and  Ty  knows  all  about  him." 

"  How  the  deuce  will  we  get  word  to  Ty  ?  "  sez  Horace. 
"  As  fast  as  we  'd  send  messengers,  Ty  would  shut  'em  up." 

"  One  thing  is  certain,  at  least,"  sez  I.  "  Ty  won't  string 
'em  up  as  long  as  he  knows  he  's  bein'  watched.  And  another 
thing  is,  that  all  of  Ty's  men  are  wanted  for  one  thing  or 
another,  and  the  longer  we  keep  'em  in  suspense,  the  sooner 
they  '11  weaken.  We  ought  to  send  word  to  the  Simpson 
boys.  They  are  at  least  two  to  one  again'  us  as  we  stand 
now." 

Just  at  this  junction,  Slim  arrived  with  the  news  that  the 


OLAF    RUNS    THE    BLOCKADE     363 

Friar  was  ridin'  up  to  the  ford.  I  was  purty  sure  'at  he 
would  n't  go  down  by  the  ravine.  The  Friar  might  lack 
judgment  in  certain  matters;  but  you  could  count  on  him 
lookin'  out  for  his  friends,  every  time. 

We  hustled  down  to  the  look-out,  and  saw  the  Friar  ride 
out  into  the  open,  and  hail  the  house.  In  a  minute  the'  was 
a  crowd  about  him  and  they  pulled  him  from  his  hoss  and 
dragged  him  toward  the  mess-hall,  actin'  mighty  jubilant. 
The  dogs  raised  a  consid'able  fuss ;  but  they  did  n't  let  any 
of  'em  get  to  the  Friar  this  time.  I  don't  know  whether  they 
were  tryin'  to  save  the  Friar  or  the  dogs. 

They  took  the  Friar  into  the  mess-hall,  and  kept  him  there 
a  good  long  time ;  but  I  felt  sure  he  would  n't  tell  more  'n 
he  wanted  to.  Then  they  brought  him  out  and  shut  him  up 
in  the  workshop  with  Prometheus. 

"  You  don't  see  'em  turnin'  Promotheus  loose,  do  ya  ?  "  sez 
ol'  Tank. 

"  Ty  Jones  would  cheat  himself  playin'  solitaire,"  sez 
Spider  Kelley. 

"  He  did  n't  agree  to  turn  Promotheus  loose  if  the  Friar 
surrendered,"  sez  Olaf.  "  He  only  said  he  would  if  Pro- 
motheus enticed  the  Friar  into  a  trap." 

Ty  Jones  certainly  did  have  what  ya  call  personal  mag- 
netism. His  men  stuck  up  for  him,  even  when  they  was 
willin'  to  help  snuff  him  out. 

We  sent  Oscar  over  to  get  the  Simpson  boys;  and  then 
we  made  our  plans.  The'  was  no  way  to  get  to  our  camp 
from  above,  and  we  could  easy  guard  the  two  trails  'at  led 
up  from  below.  Nothin'  would  have  suited  us  better  'n  to 
have  Ty  decide  to  come  and  get  us;  so  we  told  Oscar  to 
make  all  the  fuss  he  wanted  when  he  came  back. 

Nothin'  happened   down   at   the   ranch   that   day.     The 


364  FRIAR    TUCK 

woman  drifted  about,  the  same  as  usual,  not  seemin'  to  ob- 
serve 'at  the'  was  anything  different  from  ordinary,  and 
the  punchers  all  stayed  in  sight.  A  few  of. 'em  rode  up  to 
high  spots  across  the  crick  and  took  gappin's,  and  a  couple 
of  'em  came  up  the  ravine  and  examined  the  ground  on  top ; 
but  they  did  n't  seem  to  find  anything  to  interest  'em. 

That  night  Horace  wrote  an  order  on  Ty  Jones  to  release 
the  Friar  —  we  had  decided  not  to  mention  Promotheus  — 
and  Olaf  started  down  with  the  message.  We  posted  our- 
selves the  same  as  we  had  done  before;  and  after  about 
an  hour,  Olaf  returned. 

He  said  he  had  examined  the  workshop,  which  was  of 
logs,  the  same  as  the  rest  o'  the  buildin'g,  and  had  heard 
the  Friar  and  Promotheus  talkin' ;  but  had  n't  ventured  to 
say  anything  for  fear  they  were  watched.  He  said  'at  the 
Friar  was  holdin'  out  on  the  value  o'  fastin' ;  while  Promo- 
theus was  speakin'  in  defence  of  ham  an'  eggs.  Then  he 
said  he  had  crept  up  to  the  front  door  of  the  old  cabin,  and 
had  fastened  up  the  order  with  a  dagger. 

Olaf  looked  to  me  as  though  he  had  been  enjoyin'  himself 
a  little  more  'n  his  tale  gave  reason  for ;  so  I  pressed  him, 
and  finally  he  admitted  that  there  had  been  a  man  on  watch 
at  the  mouth  o'  the  ravine.  He  said  he  had  wriggled  through 
it  on  his  belly,  thinkin'  it  too  good  a  place  to  be  overlooked 
since  the  Friar  had  put  'em  on  their  guard ;  and  after  lyin' 
still  a  moment,  he  had  heard  the  man  move.  He  said  he  had 
snaked  up  to  him,  and  had  got  him  by  the  throat.  He  said 
he  thought  it  was  Dixon  because  the'  was  so  much  throat 
to  get  hold  of.  Dixon  had  been  perfectly  resigned  to  havin' 
Olaf  lynched  that  time  and  Olaf's  memory  was  not  o'  the 
leaky  kind. 

"What  became  of  him,  Olaf?"  I  asked. 


OLAF    RUNS    THE    BLOCKADE     365 

"  Oh,  he  fought  some,"  said  Olaf. 

"  Did  he  get  away  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Un,  yes  —  yes  he  got  away,"  sez  Olaf. 

"  Where  did  he  go  to?  "  sez  I. 

"  I  think  he  went  down  —  way  down,"  sez  Olaf. 

"  Down  where  ?  "  sez  I.  "  Why  don't  you  tell  us  what 
happened  to  him  ?  " 

Olaf  looked  down  at  his  right  hand.  It  didn't  resemble 
a  hand  much ;  but  it  would  'a'  been  a  handy  tool  to  use  in 
maulin'  wedges  into  a  log.  "  Why,"  sez  he,  "  he  wriggled 
about,  and  started  to  squeak;  and  when  I  squeezed  in  on 
his  neck  to  shut  off  the  squeak,  why  his  neck  broke.  It  was 
too  thin  to  be  stout." 

I  held  out  my  hand.  "  Olaf,"  I  sez,  "  I  want  to  shake  the 
hand  that  shook  his  neck." 

"Yes,"  sez  Tank,  "and  by  dad,  so  do  I!"  Tank's  leg 
was  still  tender. 


CHAPTER  THIRTY-NINE 

SKIRMISHES 

OSCAR  arrived  durin'  the  night  with  the  whole  four  Simpson 
boys ;  and  word  that  Kit  and  the  kid  were  in  fine  shape,  with 
ol'  man  Simpson  keepin'  a  sharp  watch,  and  Kit  ready  to 
take  a  standpat  hand  any  time  trouble  crowded  too  close. 
We  expected  to  keep  Ty  busy,  and  so  did  n't  worry  any  about 
Kit.  Before  dawn  we  started  the  four  Simpsons  out  to 
make  a  circle  and  cross  the  crick,  tellin'  'em  to  use  their  own 
judgment  to  some  extent;  but  not  to  run  any  risk.  We 
wanted  'em  to  act  like  scouts  and,  if  possible,  to  draw  Ty 
into  chasin'  'em,  and  then  to  lead  him  back  to  our  camp. 
We  could  see  all  of  the  other  side  o'  the  crick  from  our 
look-out. 

By  dawn  the  rest  of  us  were  down  on  the  edge  of  the  cliff, 
and  we  saw  'em  find  Dixon's  body.  They  were  consid'able 
excited  about  it;  so  we  judged  they  had  also  read  the  notice 
on  the  door. 

"  What  shall  we  do,  to-day?"  asked  Horace. 

"  Shoot  dogs,"  sez  I.  "  There  ain't  any  call  to  play  safe 
any  longer,  and  those  dogs  are  the  worst  bother  we  have." 

"All  right,"  sez  Horace.  "This  will  be  a  good  chance 
for  me  to  see  if  I  'm  still  in  practice.  I  'm  a  purty  good  rifle- 
shot, Happy." 

I  never  could  quite  harden  myself  to  Horace.  The  change 
in  him  was  almost  as  much  as  that  between  an  egg  and  a 
chicken ;  but  yet  the'  was  still  a  suggestion  of  what  he  had 


SKIRMISHES  367 

been  at  first  —  his  side-burns,  most  likely  —  and  it  allus 
jarred  me  to  see  him  steamin'  ahead  with  self-confidence 
fizzin'  out  of  his  safety  valve.  He  took  his  elephant  gun  and 
trained  it  on  one  o'  the  dogs  which  was  sniffin'  around  the 
place  where  Dixon's  body  had  lain.  We  were  purty  well 
off  to  the  north  of  the  ravine;  but  it  was  still  a  consid'able 
angle  of  a  down-shot,  and  a  good  long  one  too.  • 

"  Remember,"  sez  I,  "  that  when  shootin'  down  grade, 
you  are  mighty  apt  to  shoot  too  high." 

He  lowered  his  gun  an'  looked  at  me  as  though  I  had 
called  him  a  girl  baby.  "  I  have  shot  from  every  angle  the' 
is,"  sez  he ;  "  and  I  've  shot  big  game,  too." 

"  Ex-cuse  me! "  sez  I.  "  Shoot  now,  and  let 's  see  what 
happens." 

You  had  to  take  off  your  hat  to  Horace  when  it  came  to 
a  cultivated  taste  in  firearms.  The  thing  he  had  got  Pro- 
motheus  with  had  been  small  enough  to  conceal  in  your  back 
hair,  while  his  present  instrument  was  n't  rightly  a  rifle  at 
all,  it  was  a  half-grown  cannon.  It  shot  a  bullet  as  big  as 
your  thumb  which  mushroomed  out  and  exploded,  as  soon 
as  it  hit.  The  dog  died  a  merciful  death;  but  he  left  a 
mighty  disquietin'  bunch  o'  remains. 

"  Good  boy,  Horace !  "  I  said,  slappin'  him  on  the  shoul- 
der. "  You  keep  on  removin'  the  dogs,  and  I  '11  go  up  the 
slope,  and  pertect  your  rear,  should  they  try  to  come  up  the 
ravine." 

I  heartily  endorsed  this  slaughter  o'  the  dogs;  but  I 
was  n't  ambitious  to  see  it  done.  I  have  been  well  acquainted 
with  a  large  number  o'  dogs  of  all  sorts  and  sizes,  and  I 
have  deep  feelin's  for  dogs.  When  it  comes  to  livin'  ac- 
cordin'  to  a  feller's  own  standard,  a  dog  has  us  all  beat. 
When  a  dog  signs  up,  he  don't  whisper  nothin'  under  his 


368  FRIAR    TUCK 

breath.  He  signs  up  for  the  full  trip,  and  he  don't  ask  a 
lot  o'  questions  about  how  long  the  hours  '11  be,  or  what  sort 
o'  grub  and  quarters  and  pay  he'll  draw.  He  just  wags 
his  tail,  and  sez :  "  This  here  feller  is  my  idea  of  exactly 
what  a  feller  ought  to  be ;  and  I  'm  for  him  in  all  he  does. 
If  he  wants  me  to  fight,  I  'm  hungry  for  it,  if  he  wants  me 
to  be  polite  and  swaller  a  lot  o'  insults,  I  '11  do  it,  or  if  the 
time  comes  when  my  death  is  worth  more  to  him  'n  my  life, 
why,  I  don't  know  nothin'  about  future  rewards  or  such 
truck ;  but  I  'm  perfectly  willin'  to  swap  life  for  death  in 
his  name,  and  I  'm  proud  to  take  the  consequences  —  so  long 
as  he  gets  the  reward." 

I  own  up  'at  a  dog  has  no  morality ;  he  's  only  a  reflection 
of  his  master.  A  decent  man  has  a  decent  dog,  a  vicious 
man  has  a  vicious  dog  —  and  this  is  why  it  would  have  hurt 
me  more  to  watch  Horace  testin'  his  aim  on  the  dogs  'n  it 
would  if  he  had  been  minded  to  pot  a  few  Cross-branders 
themselves,  especially  Ty  Jones.  » 

Now,  the  sound  o'  this  gun,  and  the  sight  of  the  dead 
dog  made  things  buzz  down  below.  The  men  peered  out 
from  all  directions,  but  hardly  knew  what  to  do.  I  had  sent 
Mexican  Slim  off  to  the  right,  just  above  the  ravine,  to  pick 
off  any  dogs  'at  came  in  that  direction,  and  soon  after  Horace 
got  his,  Slim  also  got  one ;  and  Ty  whistled  the  dogs  to  come 
to  the  house.  Here  was  where  his  method  of  treatin'  a  dog 
showed  up  bad.  Any  time  before  this,  a  dog  which  so  much 
as  set  foot  on  the  porch  had  been  belted  with  anything 
capable  of  inflictin'  pain,  and  now  they  refused  to  go  inside. 

The  Chink  was  able  to  whistle  'em  to  the  cook-house ;  but 
that  was  as  far  as  they  'd  go ;  and  while  they  were  standin' 
in  a  bunch,  Horace  and  Slim  each  got  one.  Ty  was  standin' 
near  one  o'  the  poles  which  upheld  the  back  porch,  and 


SKIRMISHES  369 

Horace  exploded  a  slab  from  this  pole  in  such  a  way  that 
it  knocked  Ty  down.  This  put  the  whole  bunch  into  a  con- 
sternation. Horace  certainly  could  shoot  some.  It  made 
me  think  o'  the  poorhouse,  when  I  reflected  on  what  it  had 
cost  him. to  learn  how. 

Nothin'  much  happened  that  day.  Horace  and  Slim  stuck 
to  their  knittin',  and  the  Simpson  boys  played  their  part 
well.  They  rode  in  a  bunch,  and  when  they  'd  come  in  sight 
o'  the  ranch  house,  one  would  hold  the  field-glass  case  to 
his  eyes,  as  though  lookin'  through  the  field  glasses,  and 
another  would  turn  and  wave  his  hands,  as  though  signallin' 
to  some  one  up  in  the  hills.  Once,  two  punchers  went  to  the 
corral  and  saddled  hosses ;  but  Horace  shot  one  o'  the  hosses, 
and  both  men  flew  for  the  stable  without  waitin'  to  take  off 
the  saddles.  They  had  never  seen  such  wounds  as  Horace's 
elephant  gun  created,  and  it  put  'em  in  a  mighty  thoughtful 
mood. 

The  Simpson  boys  came  in  soon  after  dark;  and  we  all 
held  a  council  of  war  while  eatin'  supper.  I  was  purty  certain 
that  we  had  a  better  bunch  o'  men  than  those  we  were 
fightin'.  It  is  no  test  of  nerve  to  kill  a  man :  a  lot  o'  men 
who  got  the  reputation  o'  bein'  bad  were  nothin'  but  acci- 
dents or  sneaks ;  but  when  you  have  to  stick  through  a  slow 
fight  without  knowin'  the  odds  again'  ya,  it  gives  your  nerve 
a  mighty  searchin'  try-out.  I  had  hopes  that  after  a  day  or 
so,  they  'd  be  certain  that  the  hills  on  all  sides  of  'em  were 
full  of  enemies,  and  they  'd  be  mighty  glad  to  settle  on  our 
terms.  I  did  n't  want  to  kill  a  single  man  more  'n  was  neces- 
sary. Horace  also  thought  we  could  wear  out  their  nerve; 
but  Olaf  shook  his  head. 

"  Some  o'  the  punchers  may  desert  in  the  night,"  sez  he ; 
"  but  as  long  as  a  single  one  remains  to  stand  back  to  back 


37o  FRIAR    TUCK 

with  Ty  Jones,  Ty  Jones  '11  stay  and  fight.  He  has  no  fear 
—  I  have  seen." 

"  The  question  is  this,"  sez  I,  "  if  those  fellers  are  the 
kind  to  get  fiercer  the  longer  they  're  kept  in  suspense,  the 
thing  to  do  is  to  raid  'em  to-night ;  but,  on  the  other  hand, 
if  they  're  the  kind  whose  nerve  evaporates  when  it  is  kept 
uncovered,  the  thing  to  do  is  to  wear  'em  down.  Let 's  vote 
on  it." 

We  decided  to  do  some  more  wearin' ;  so  we  kept  a  guard 
at  the  camp,  and  the  rest  of  us  went  down  to  the  cliff,  and 
tossed  over  stones  to  where  we  thought  they  'd  be  hid,  pro- 
vidin'  they  had  put  guards  at  the  mouth  of  the  ravine.  We 
raised  a  yelp  the  first  throw,  and  heard  a  rush  o'  men  from 
the  new  cabin,  though  the  shadow  was  so  dense  down  below 
we  could  n't  see  a  thing.  This  showed  us  that  some  o'  the 
dogs  still  survived  and  were  bein'  used  as  guards,  and  also 
that  there  were  men  quartered  in  the  woman's  cabin.  This 
was  a  bother,  as  it  would  force  us  to  be  careful  until  we 
found  out  where  she  was  livin'. 

We  posted  a  guard  at  the  top  of  the  path  leadin'  up  from 
the  ravine,  another  at  our  camp,  and  went  to  sleep,  feelin' 
purty  tol'able  well  fixed.  Nothin'  happened  that  night,  and 
the  next  day,  we  made  ready  to  do  about  the  same  as  we  had 
done  the  day  before;  but  when  we  reached  the  cliff,  the' 
was  n't  a  sign  o'  life  below  —  not  a  single,  breathin'  thing  in 
sight,  not  even  a  hoss  in  the  pasture. 

"  They  've  got  away !  "  exclaimed  Horace. 

"  Where  to  ?  "  sez  Olaf .  "  Ty  Jones  has  n't  any  more  use 
for  the  law  'n  we  have,  and  you  '11  never  make  me  believe 
'at  he  's  pulled  out  and  left  all  his  belongin's  for  whoever 
wants  'em." 

"That's  so,"  sez  I;   "but  where  the  deuce  are  they?" 


SKIRMISHES  371 

We  watched  all  mornin' ;  but  not  a  sign,  not  a  bit  o'  smoke 
from  the  cook-house,  just  the  ranch  buildin's  settin'  there  as 
deserted  as  the  Garden  of  Eden.  The  Simpsons  were  workin' 
their  stunts  across  the  crick;  so  about  ten  in  the  mornin', 
Slim  and  Dutch  rode, over  to  tell  'em  to  come  in,  as  they 
would  look  mighty  foolish,  providin'  they  were  makin'  sig- 
nals to  one  of  the  hills  where  the  Cross-branders  themselves 
•were  hid. 

After  eatin'  dinner,  the  rest  of  us  went  down  to  the  look- 
out, Horace  shoulderin'  his  elephant  exterminator,  and 
lookin'  peevish  and  fretful,  'cause  the'  was  nothin'  to  shoot 
at.  "  Boys,"  sez  I,  "  do  ya  suppose  'at  poor  old  Promo- 
theus  has  been  goin'  all  this  time  on  nothin'  but  water." 

"  He 's  gone  longer  'n  this  on  nothing  but  water,"  sez 
Horace ;  "  and  so  have  I.  Over  in  Africa,  once,  we  sent  a 
tribe  o'  blacks  around  to  beat  some  lions  out  for  us;  but 
they  fell  in  with  another  tribe  who  were  not  friendly,  and 
they  just  kept  on  goin'.  Promotheus  and  I  were  lost  from 
everything,  and  we  got  into  a  desert  before  we  found  a  way 
out.  We  went  for  I  don't  know  how  long  without  water. 
Anyway,  we  went  long  enough  to  get  into  that  numb  con- 
dition when  the  earth  becomes  molten  copper,  and  the  sky 
a  sun  glass,  and  a  man  himself  feels  like  another  man's  night- 
mare. That  tender  old  Promotheus  you  're  sympathizin' 
with,  carried  me  the  best  part  of  a  day,  or  a  century  —  time 
had  melted  entirely  away  —  and  when  we  came  back  to  our 
senses  we  lay  beside  a  pool  of  water.  He  's  tough,  Promo- 
theus is." 

"  At  the  same  time,"  sez  Tank,  "  settin'  cooped  up  in  a 
log  hut  with  nothin'  to  cheer  ya  but  water,  is  n't  my  idy  of 
havin'  high  jinks." 

"  Perhaps,  too,"  sez  Spider  Kelley,  who  did  n't  have  enough 


372  FRIAR    TUCK 

sense  of  fitness  to  change  a  nickel,  "  those  mongrel  coyotes 
lynched  both  him  an'  the  Friar  before  they  vamosed." 

"They  wouldn't  do  that,"  sez  Olaf;  "but  I  wish  we 
knew  what  they  had  done." 

"  Let 's  go  and  shoot  at  the  old  cabin  or  the  bunk-shack," 
sez  Oscar. 

"  I  move  we  wait,  and  raid  'em  to-night,"  sez  I,  and  this 
was  what  we  decided  to  do. 

The  rest  of  uo  lolled  about  purty  patient  —  as  active  men, 
an'  beasts  too,  are  likely  to  do  when  the's  nothin'  on  hand 
—  but  Horace  who  had  lived  in  a  room  most  of  his  life, 
had  n't  quite  learned  to  turn  off  his  steam  when  he  had  n't 
any  use  for  it ;  so  he  kept  bobbin'  up  and  fussin'  about.  All 
of  a  sudden,  he  gave  a  sort  of  gasp,  and  pointed  up  the  slope. 

We  looked  and  saw  one  man  crouched  over  and  runnin' 
along  where  the  south  trail  to  our  camp  swung  around  a 
crag ;  and  we  sprang  to  our  feet,  and  looked  up  at  the  camp. 
As  we  looked,  the  face  of  Ty  Jones  with  a  grin  on  it,  poked 
up  over  a  stone  and  leered  down  at  us  most  exasperatin'. 


CHAPTER   FORTY 

AN    IRRITATING  GRIN 

Now,  you  can  mighty  easy  understand  that  this  was  a  fair 
sized,  able-bodied,  bite-and-kick  consternation  for  us,  if 
ever  the'  was  one  in  the  world.  Our  look-out  was  behind  a 
ridge  which  sheltered  it  complete  from  below,  but  left  it  as 
open  from  above  as  the  straw  hat  which  Stutterin'  Sam 
made  the  dude  crawl  through.  Up  above  us,  lookin'  down 
from  the  rocks  in  front  of  our  camp  was  Ty  Jones,  grinnin' 
as  self-composed  an'  satisfied  as  a  cat  which  has  just  re- 
moved all  evidence  of  there  ever  havin'  been  any  Canary 
birds;  and  truth  to  tell,  we  felt  as  indiscriminate  and  em- 
barrassed as  a  naked  man  at  a  dance  party. 

All  we  saw  was  just  Ty  and  his  grin.  We  knew  the'  was 
one  other  man  with  him,  but  that  was  all  we  did  know; 
while  our  strength  was  as  plain  to  them,  as  Tillte  Dutch  was 
the  time  he  fell  in  love  and  used  iodaform  on  his  hair  in- 
stead o'  perfume.  We  just  stood  and  looked  up  at  Ty,  and 
then  we  turned  our  heads  and  looked  at  each  other,  and  I 
never  saw  as  many  stupid  expressions  in  one  mess.  We  felt 
as  though  every  minute  was  liable  to  be  our  next. 

Whenever  ol'  Tank  Williams  was  surprised  or  puzzled 
or  wrastlin'  with  his  own  thoughts,  he  allus  put  me  in  mind 
of  a  picture  I  once  saw  of  a  walrus.  The  walrus  was 
loungin'  up  on  a  rock,  and  he  looked  as  solemn  and  philo- 
sophical as  though  some  young  snip  of  a  school  boy  had 
tested  his  intellect  by  askin'  him  what  two  times  one  made. 


374  FRIAR    TUCK 

I  never  saw  Tank  look  so  much  like  the  walrus  as  he  did 
this  time  'at  Ty  Jones  surprised  us.  O'  course  Tank's  teeth 
was  different,  but  his  mustaches  stuck  down  in  much  the 
same  way,  and  when  I  looked  at  him,  I  busted  out  laughin', 
though  I  own  up  I  was  scared  enough  to  stampede  the  mo- 
ment before.  When  I  laughed,  it  seemed  to  break  the  charm, 
and  before  I  buttoned  up  my  lips  again,  Horace  had  pulled 
up  his  elephant  gun,  and  taken  a  blast  at  Ty's  grin.  Ty 
pulled  down  his  face  behind  the  stone  as  soon  as  Horace 
aimed  at  him ;  but  the  range  was  long  enough  to  strain  even 
such  a  devil-tool  as  this  half-grown  cannon,  so  nothin'  came 
of  it. 

After  my  chuckle,  I  began  to  think  in  streams.  The 
ground  to  the  right  of  us  —  as  we  looked  up  towards  Ty  — 
was  broken,  and  it  occurred  to  me  that  he  had  been  holdin'  us 
with  his  grin  so  as  to  give  some  of  his  men  time  to  sneak 
down  and  cut  us  off,  he  and  the  balance  were  above  us,  the 
ravine  to  our  left,  and  straight  back  of  us  the  cliff.  We 
could  n't  stick  where  we  were  again'  odds,  and  there  was  n't 
any  water  in  the  clump  of  rocks  which  faced  the  path  where 
it  come  out  of  the  ravine.  As  I  ran  over  these  details 
in  my  mind,  I  had  as  little  temptation  to  laugh  as  I 
ever  did  have;  but  the  second  I  thought  of  the  clump  o' 
rocks  facin'  the  path,  I  saw  that  the  path  itself  was  the 
answer. 

There  was  no  reason  to  hurry,  as  far  as  I  could  see ;  they 
could  not  come  to  us  without  exposin'  themselves,  and  every 
moment  we  waited,  the  closer  would  come  Dutch,  Slim,  and 
the  four  Simpson  boys.  To  the  right  of  us,  as  I  said,  the 
ground  was  broken,  and  here  was  where  they  would  be  most 
likely  to  sneak  down  on  us.  By  goin'  in  a  diagonal  direc- 
tion, we  could  get  to  where  we  could  see  straight  up  the 


AN    IRRITATING    GRIN  375 

washes  which  made  up  this  broken  ground,  and  so  know 
what  we  had  to  fight. 

"  Come  on,  fellers,"  sez  I,  climbin'  up  over  the  ridge. 

"  Where  ya  goin'  ?  "  sez  Horace. 

I  sat  down  on  top  o'  the  ridge.  "  Have  you  got  any 
plan?"  sez  I  calmly. 

"  No,"  sez  he,  "  I  haven't;   but  I  'd  like  to  know  —  " 

"  If  you  're  willin'  to  take  charge,"  sez  I,  "  why,  go 
ahead,  and  I  '11  obey  orders ;  but  I  don't  care  how  small 
the  body  is,  it  can't  do  quick  work  with  more  'n  one  head, 
as  you  ought  to  know  better  'n  any  of  us  —  it  havin'  been 
tried  frequent  in  those  Greek  tales  you  're  all  the  time  in- 
flictin'  us  with." 

Horace  put  his  back  up  a  little.  "  I  'm  willin'  to  agree 
to  anything  reasonable,"  sez  he ;  "  but  I  don't  see  any  sense 
in  leavin'  this  spot  until  we  know  where  we  're  goin'." 

I  folded  my  fingers  together,  set  my  thumbs  to  chasin' 
each  other,  and  began  to  whistle.  I  was  n't  jealous  of 
Horace ;  but  it  just  occurred  to  me  that  I  had  handled  men 
before  he  'd  mustered  up  courage  enough  to  stay  out  after 
seven  o'clock  p.  M.  without  gettin'  his  mother's  permission, 
and  I  wanted  to  test  the  others  and  see  if  they  thought  he 
had  picked  up  more  craft  in  three  years  'n  I  had  in  a  life- 
time; so  I  whistled  the  tune  to  his  song,  and  looked  up 
at  the  clouds. 

"  What 's  your  idee,  Happy  ?  "  sez  ol'  Tank.  I  had  nour- 
ished Tank  on  thought-food  for  a  good  long  session,  and 
I  knew  he  'd  feel  mighty  much  like  a  lost  calf  if  I  left  him 
to  rustle  up  his  own  idees ;  so  I  just  gave  my  hands  a  little 
toss  and  kept  on  with  my  whistlin'. 

"  Aw,  don't  be  so  blame  touchy,"  sez  Spider  Kelley.  I 
had  pulled  Spider  through  a  number  o'  tight  places,  also, 


376  FRIAR    TUCK 

and  I  knew  he  'd  soon  begin  to  feel  trapped  up  and  smothery, 
if  I  left  him  to  sweat  out  his  own  idees  for  a  few  minutes 
longer ;  so  I  gave  him  the  same  gesture  I  had  bestowed  on 
Tank. 

"  What  do  you  think  we  'd  better  do,  Olaf  ?  "  sez  Horace. 

Olaf  looked  all  around  but  did  not  see  anything.  "  They 
have  come  up  the  ravine,  took  the  path  up  the  other  side, 
through  the  clump  o'  trees,  made  a  wide  circle  and  got  to 
our  camp,"  sez  Olaf.  "  If  we  try  to  get  away,  they  cut  us 
off.  If  we  stay  here,  we  die  for  want  of  water.  If  we  rush 
up  the  hill,  they  shoot  us  from  behind  the  rocks.  All  I  can 
see  is  to  wait  until  night,  and  then  make  a  rush  for  it." 

"  Well,  that  don't  look  like  much  of  an  idee  to  me,"  sez 
Horace.  I  kept  on  whistlin'. 

"  I  move  we  foller  Happy,"  sez  Spider  Kelley. 

"  I  second  the  motion,"  sez  Tank. 

"  I  'm  willin'  to,"  sez  Olaf,  and  Oscar  nodded  his  head. 
This  was  about  all  Oscar  ever  used  his  head  for  except  to 
hang  his  hat  on ;  but  he  was  a  good  boy  and  sizey. 

"  All  right,"  sez  Horace.  "  Now  then,  Happy  Hawkins, 
the  responsibility  is  on  you." 

"  Now,  be  sure  you  mean  this,"  sez  I ;  "  for  my  plan  is 
a  foolish  one,  and  I  don't  care  to  explain  each  step.  I  don't 
claim  'at  my  scheme  is  the  best ;  but  my  experience  has  been, 
that  a  poor  plan  carried  out  beats  a  good  plan  which  never 
came  in.  Climb  up  here,  and  we  '11  walk  off  in  that  direc- 
tion without  lookin'  behind  us." 

They  could  n't  see  any  sense  in  this ;  but  they  follered 
me  without  chatterin',  and  I  was  satisfied.  Horace  had  the 
field  glasses  in  his  pocket;  so  when  we  had  reached  the 
place  I  thought  would  do,  I  set  him  to  lookin'  across  the 
crick  careful  to  see  if  he  could  see  anything.  All  the  others 


AN     IRRITATING    GRIN  377 

watched  him,  and  I  got  behind  and  looked  up  the  slope.  I 
saw  several  men  hidin'  in  the  washes,  and  I  said  in  a  low 
tone :  "  Keep  on  lookin'  across  the  hill,  Horace.  Now,  you 
others  get  out  from  behind  him.  Now,  Horace,  whirl  and 
examine  the  washes  up  the  slope  and  see  how  many  men 
you  can  count." 

Horace  whirled,  as  did  all  the  rest  of  'em,  and  we  found 
seven  fellers  in  sight.  We  figured  'at  there  must  be  at  least 
fifteen  Cross-branders  in  the  neighborhood,  and  probably 
more,  and  the  ones  we  were  able  to  see  in  the  washes  con- 
vinced me  'at  Ty  had  staked  everything  on  gettin'  us  cor- 
nered. They  did  n't  have  enough  to  split  up,  so  I  felt  sure 
they  would  leave  the  ravine  open,  not  thinkin'  it  likely  we  'd 
try  to  go  down  there. 

"  Now,"  sez  I,  "  let 's  go  to  that  clump  o'  rocks  and  hide." 
They  all  came  along ;  but  did  n't  seem  enthusiastic,  because 
the  washes  led  down  close  to  the  rocks  —  we,  ourselves, 
havin'  sneaked  down  'em  while  we  were  waitin'  for  the 
woman  that  day.  We  could  n't  see  the  path  the  boys  would 
take  in  comin'  up  to  our  camp  from  across  the  crick,  while 
the  Cross-branders  could  see  'em  a  good  part  o'  the  way, 
and  this  fretted  me  a  lot;  though  I  hoped  they  had  heard 
Horace's  elephant  gun. 

After  a  time,  Horace,  through  the  glasses,  saw  a  feller's 
head  watchin'  us  from  our  old  look-out;  so  we  knew  they 
had  crept  up  along  the  back  o'  that  ridge.  Then  we  heard 
consid'able  shootin'  off  to  the  right,  and  knew  the  boys  had 
got  back.  There  were  several  good  places  for  ambush,  and 
we  felt  purty  blue  at  what  had  most  likely  happened;  but 
they  were  on  hossback,  and  would  be  on  their  guard  after 
knowin'  'at  the  Cross-branders  were  up  to  some  trick;  so 
we  hoped  for  the  best. 


378  FRIAR    TUCK 

This  clump  o'  rocks  we  were  in  was  composed  of  one 
big  crag  and  a  lot  o'  little  ones.  The  big  one  shut  off  our 
view,  and  finally  Horace  said  it  would  be  a  good  plan  to  get 
on  top  of  it,  as  the  chances  were  we  could  get  a  good  view 
in  all  directions.  It  was  fifteen  feet  up  to  where  the'  was 
footin',  and  we  did  n't  see  how  it  could  be  done ;  but  he 
said  it  was  simple ;  so  we  let  him  try  it.  He  made  Olaf  and 
Tank  face  the  rock,  holdin'  on  to  each  other.  Then  I 
climbed  to  their  shoulders  and  they  passed  up  Horace.  I 
handed  him  up  as  far  as  I  could  reach,  and  it  was  as  simple 
as  peelin'  a  banana.  The  signal  was  for  him  to  drop  a 
pebble  when  he  wanted  to  come  down. 

In  about  two  moments  a  stone  the  size  o'  your  fist  fell  on 
Oscar's  head;  which  was  a  good  thing,  for  it  might  other- 
wise have  hurt  a  head  we  had  more  use  for.  We  laddered 
ourselves  again'  the  rock,  and  Horace  came  down  without 
missin'  a  single  one  of  our  ears.  When  he  reached  the  level, 
he  put  his  finger  on  his  lips,  and  said  he  had  seen  ten  men 
sneakin'  up  toward  the  rock  and  only  a  few  hundred  feet 
away.  Oscar  was  still  holdin'  to  the  lump  on  his  head,  so 
Horace  explained  'at  the'  hadn't  been  any  pebbles  on  top 
the  crag. 

"  Now,  what  ya  goin'  to  do  ?  "  asked  Horace  to  me. 

"  You,  Olaf,  and  Oscar  go  around  the  rock  to  the  left," 
sez  I ;  "  and  Tank,  Spider,  and  I  '11  go  around  to  the  right. 
Each  fire  only  once,  and  then  run  around  the  rock  again  and 
make  for  the  path  leadin'  down  into  the  ravine.  Keep  close 
together  all  the  way." 

"  The  ravine !  "  exclaimed  Spider. 

"  Sure,"  sez  I. 

"  All  right,"  sez  Spider,  draggin'  out  the  "  all "  until  it 
would  do  for  "  I  told  ya  so,"  in  case  we  got  pocketed. 


AN    IRRITATING    GRIN  379 

It  worked  fine;  we  flew  around,  surprised  'em,  shot  a 
volley  into  'em,  made  'em  seek  cover,  and  then  we  flew  for 
the  head  o'  the  path.  OF  Tank,  with  his  damaged  prop, 
was  as  nimble  as  a  one-legged  Norman  hoss,  and  Horace 
was  loaded  down  with  elephant  ammunition;  so  that  it  was 
wise  to  have  all  the  time  we  could  get.  Ty  and  five  others 
jumped  up  from  our  look-out,  and  tried  to  head  us  off;  but 
they  had  to  go  twice  as  far  as  we  did.  Ty  and  two  others 
had  rifles,  and  they  stopped  and  took  shots  at  us,  but  nothin' 
came  of  it. 

"  Hurry  on  to  the  ranch  buildin's,"  I  called  as  we  went 
down  the  path.  Then  I  turned  back,  to  see  what  they  were 
doin'. 

"  Let  me  take  a  shot  at  'em,"  sez  Horace's  voice  at  my 
elbow. 

"  Why  did  n't  you  go  on  with  the  rest  ?  "  sez  I.  "  I  can 
give  you  half  way  and  beat  you  runnin'." 

"  Let  me  take  just  one  shot,"  sez  Horace,  so  I  gave  in 
and  let  him.  Two  fellers  were  runnin'  at  a  long  angle 
toward  the  mouth  o'  the  ravine  to  head  us  off,  and  get  a 
shot  from  above;  so  I  told  him  to  try  for  one  o'  them. 
He  fiddled  with  his  hind  sight  as  calm  as  though  shootin' 
for  a  Christmas  turkey,  and  hanged  if  he  did  n't  topple  one 
over.  The  other  stopped,  and  then  ran  back  with  his  head 
ducked  low  to  the  ground,  while  the  wounded  one  crawled 
behind  a  rock. 

"  Now  dust  for  the  buildin's,"  sez  I ;  "  and  don't  try  any 
more  nonsense.  Let  me  carry  the  weapon,  and  you  won't 
be  so  overloaded.  I  '11  start  after  you  in  a  jiffy." 

When  I  looked  back,  I  saw  that  all  of  'em  had  slowed 
down  consid'able,  out  o'  respect  to  the  elephant  gun;  but 
I  could  still  count  seventeen,  so  we  had  n't  seen  'em  all 


380  FRIAR    TUCK 

before.  When  they  started  towards  the  head  of  the  path 
again,  I  took  a  shot  at  Ty  Jones ;  but  I  did  n't  savvy  the 
rear  sight,  and  all  it  did  was  to  make  'em  slow  down  once 
more.  Then  I  slid  down  the  path  and  hot-footed  it  down 
the  ravine.  I  saw  signs  o'  hosses,  so  I  knew  they  had  rode 
most  of  their  trip,  and  would  be  in  a  position  to  circle  around 
all  they  wanted  to. 

I  soon  caught  up  with  the  others,  and  Tank  was  puffin' 
purty  freely.  All  the  rest  were  runnin'  easy,  and  we  came 
out  o'  the  mouth  o'  the  ravine  without  seein'  a  single  soul. 
Now,  we  hardly  knew  what  to  do.  It  was  about  the  same 
distance  from  the  mouth  o'  the  ravine  to  the  first  curve  in 
it,  as  it  was  to  the  woman's  cabin ;  so  I  told  Spider  to  stay 
at  the  corner  o'  the  cabin,  and  watch  that  curve. 

Then  we  went  around  and  found  the  door  locked.  We 
called  twice  to  the  woman,  but  the'  was  no  reply;  so  Olaf 
picked  up  a  big  stone  and  knocked  off  the  lock.  We  made 
a  quick  examination;  but  the'  was  no  one  there.  I  posted 
Horace  and  Spider  in  this  cabin  to  watch  the  mouth  o'  the 
ravine  through  the  window  facin'  it,  and  to  shoot  into  'em, 
should  they  foller  us  close. 

We  next  went  to  the  big  house,  where  we  had  more  trouble 
as  everything  was  fastened  with  bars  on  the  inside,  except 
the  front  door  which  had  an  immense  padlock  on  the  out- 
side. We  finally  broke  it  off,  and  out  dashed  three  o'  their 
confounded  dogs.  We  killed  'em,  and  went  inside ;  but  the' 
was  no  one  else  there.  Next  we  went  to  the  workshop,  and 
after  breakin'  off  the  padlock,  we  found  the  Friar  and  Pro- 
motheus  gagged  and  tied.  The  Friar  was  sad,  and  Pro- 
motheus  was  mad.  We  sent  'em  up  to  the  cook-shack  to 
get  on  speakin'  terms  with  food  again,  and  rummaged  the 
rest  o'  the  buildin's ;  but  could  find  neither  the  woman  nor 


AN     IRRITATING    GRIN  381 

the  Chink,  and  by  the  time  we  were  through,  it  was  gettin' 
along  towards  dark. 

I  set  Tank  to  cookin'  a  meal  while  the  rest  of  us  carried 
logs  and  piled  'em  in  the  mouth  o'  the  ravine.  It  would 
be  moonlight  up  to  ten  o'clock,  and  after  that  I  intended  to 
have  a  fire  to  see  by.  We  also  set  up  some  logs  at  each  o' 
the  two  fords.  After  supper  we  divided  into  two  equal 
groups  o'  four  each,  to  stand  guard,  each  man  to  watch 
two  hours,  one  at  the  window  of  the  new  cabin,  the  other 
from  the  porch  of  the  old  one,  where  a  view  across  both 
fords  could  be  had. 

The  Friar  was  purty  downcast  at  our  not  bein'  able  to 
find  the  woman,  and  at  our  still  bein'  in  a  state  o'  war ;  but 
he  did  n't  kick  none.  He  promised  not  to  go  over  and  sur- 
render himself  any  more,  and  said  he  would  stand  guard 
careful,  and  warn  us  the  first  thing  'at  happened.  We  de- 
cided 'at  they  would  probably  attack  us  that  night,  and  we 
finally  chose  the  old  shack,  as  it  had  water  piped  into  it  from 
a  spring  a  hundred  yards  above.  I  figured  'at  they  'd  be 
most  apt  to  come  down  the  ravine,  so  I  picked  out  the  Friar, 
Olaf,  and  Tank  to  help  me  watch  it,  and  the  others  to  take 
turns  watchin'  the  fords. 

About  half,  past  nine,  we  lit  the  fires  and  turned  in,  with 
Oscar  on  the  porch,  and  Olaf  at  the  window  of  the  new 
cabin.  I  thought  they  would  n't  come  before  two  o'clock, 
and  had  it  arranged  so  'at  the  last  ford  watches  would  be 
held  by  Spider  and  Promotheus. 


CHAPTER   FORTY-ONE 

THE   NIGHT-ATTACK 

I  WAS  N'T  sleepy,  and  lyin'  stretched  out  is  the  worst  cure 
for  sleeplessness  'at  ever  I  tried ;  so  after  twistin'  about  for 
a  while,  I  got  up  and  took  a  look  around.  Oscar  hadn't 
seen  a  thing,  which  I  took  to  be  a  mighty  encouragin'  sign. 
Mostly,  when  you  set  a  boy  on  guard  he  rouses  ya  out  to 
meet  the  enemy  every  fifteen  minutes,  and  then  goes 
to  sleep  just  before  the  enemy  actually  does  arrive;  but 
Olaf  had  trained  Oscar  to  do  what  he  was  told,  as 
he  was  told  —  when  he  was  told  —  and  then  not  to  talk 
about  it  for  a  couple  o'  years  afterward.  Oscar  was 
reliable  to  a  degree ;  but  for  conversational  purposes,  I  'd 
sooner  have  been  shipwrecked  with  a  brindle  bull 
pup. 

I  didn't  have  any  doubts  of  Olaf;  but  I  dropped  in  to 
see  what  sort  of  a  view  he  had,  now  that  it  had  got  dark. 
The  fire  was  burnin'  high,  and  the  ravine  was  as  bright  as 
day.  Enough  o'  the  fire  would  last  until  mornin'  to  give  a 
good  view,  so  I  strolled  down  around  the  bunk-shack  and 
stables.  I  saw  a  form  movin'  in  the  shadow  o'  the  cotton- 
woods,  and  stalked  it  careful,  finally  gettin'  close  enough  to 
make  out  the  Friar. 

"  Can't  ya  sleep,  Friar  ?  "  sez  I. 

"  No,  no,  I  can't  sleep,"  sez  he  with  a  sigh.  "  Where  do 
you  think  she  is,  Happy  ?  " 

"  They  probably  took  her  with  'em ;    and  left  the  Chink 


THE    NIGHT-ATTACK  383 

to  guard  her,  back  in  the  hills,"  sez  I.  "  No  matter  what 
happens,  they  're  not  liable  to  harm  her." 

"  It 's  sore  hard  to  be  patient,"  sez  the  Friar.  "  I  am 
honestly  opposed  to  all  violence  and  bloodshed.  I  have  allus 
believed  that  all  wars  were  useless  and  unnecessary;  but 
it 's  sometimes  hard  for  me  to  love  my  enemies." 

"  You  're  just  worried  and  can't  see  clear,"  sez  I  sooth- 
in'ly.  "  It 's  plain  enough  if  you  just  think  it  out  —  that 's 
the  best  part  o'  religion.  One  place  it  sez :  '  Love  your  ene- 
mies.' In  another  it  sez :  '  Foller  the  Lord's  example.'  In 
still  another  it  sez :  '  Whom  he  loves,  he  chasteneth '  — 
which  you  said  meant  to  punish.  Now  then,  you  have  it  all 
worked  out :  the  proper  way  to  love  your  enemy  is  to  punish 
him ;  and,  accordin'  to  this  rule,  we  're  goin'  to  love  the 
hide  off  o'  one  o'  your  enemies,  if  so  be  we  're  able  to  do  it." 

But  the  Friar  never  would  stand  for  havin'  his  religion 
doctored  to  suit  the  taste,  he  had  to  take  it  as  stiff  and  raw 
as  alcohol,  where  he  was  concerned,  himself ;  so  he  turned 
in  and  explained  things  to  me  until  from  my  standpoint, 
misery  was  the  only  religious  excuse  a  feller  had  for  bein' 
happy. 

By  this,  it  was  time  to  change  watches,  so  the  Friar  re- 
lieved Olaf,  while  Horace  and  his  elephant-pest  went  out 
on  the  front  porch  to  watch  the  fords,  and  I  turned  in. 
None  of  us  took  our  boots  qff  that  night;  we  had  a  little 
fire  in  the  big  room,  and  slept  on  the  floor,  holdin'  our  belts 
in  our  hands.  I  drowsed  off  quick  enough  this  time,  knowin' 
'at  Tank  and  Promotheus  would  be  next  on  watch  and  cer- 
tain not  to  let  anything  surprise  them. 

Sure  enough,  just  about  the  time  we  had  slept  ourselves 
into  complete  forgetfulness,  we  were  all  jerked  to  our  feet 
by  the  first  shot  Tank  fired,  and  this  one  shot  was  followed 


384  FRIAR    TUCK 

by  a  bunch  of  others.  The  Cross-branders  had  crept  down 
the  ravine,  and  a  little  after  three  when  the  fire  had  burned 
low,  they  had  tried  to  get  by  unnoticed.  Ol'  Tank  only  had 
one  eye,  but  it  was  a  workin'  eye,  if  ever  the'  was  one,  and 
he  shot  two  of  'em  with  one  o'  their  own  rifles,  and  when 
they  rushed  him  in  a  body,  spreadin'  out  wide,  he  retreated 
to  the  old  cabin,  accordin'  to  directions. 

The  old  cabin  had  loopholes  in  it,  and  we  had  found  three 
fairly  good  rifles,  but  not  much  ammunition.  We  didn't 
waste  any  shots  while  it  was  still  dark ;  but  they  fired  at  us 
now  and  again.  They  had  brought  the  five  rifles  we  had 
left  at  our  camp,  and  used  'em  freely.  Slim  had  taken  the 
other  rifle  with  him. 

All  durin'  that  day  they  broke  the  monotony  by  takin' 
frequent  shots  at  us;  but  the  logs  in  the  cabin  had  been 
matched  up  for  just  such  a  purpose,  and  not  one  of  us  was 
even  scratched  with  a  splinter.  What  we  were  most  afraid 
of  was,  'at  they  would  find  some  way  to  set  fire  to  the  cabin, 
and  we  counted  on  that  bein'  one  o'  the  night's  diversities. 

There  were  three  good  sized  rooms  in  the  old  cabin  which 
was  only  one  story  high.  One  big  room  occupied  the  full 
south  half  o'  the  cabin,  a  bedroom  was  in  the  northeast 
corner,  and  a  library  in  the  northwest  corner.  Yes,  sir,  a 
regular  library,  and  the  Friar  and  Horace  both  said  it  was 
a  choice  collection  o'  books.  Horace  showed  us  one  book 
which  had  a  photograph  of  the  original  Promotheus  chained 
to  a  rock  with  the  vultures  peckin'  at  his  liver,  and  he  cer- 
tainly must  have  been  some  man  to  stand  it.  This  picture 
made  The's  eyes  light  up  consid'able. 

The'  was  also  some  chromos  of  naked  stone  images  on 
the  wall,  which  the  Friar  and  Horace  called  mighty  fine 
copies.  They  were  purty  well  dumb-founded,  to  find  'at  Ty 


THE    NIGHT-ATTACK  385 

Jones  did  n't  live  as  much  like  a  bob-cat  as  they  'd  thought. 
Under  the  book  shelves  was  a  row  o'  locked  drawers.  They 
stuck  out  farther  than  the  shelves  above  'em,  and  we  wanted 
to  pry  'em  open  to  see  what  was  inside;  but  the  Friar 
would  n't  let  us. 

That  was  a  wearin'  day,  and  we  were  all  glad  when  it 
finally  dragged  itself  to  the  lake  o'  darkness,  and  dove  in. 
We  had  our  minds  made  up  for  a  busy  night,  but  waitin' 
for  trouble  is  more  crampin'  to  the  soul  than  bein'  in  the 
midst  of  it,  so  we  felt  cheerfuller  as  soon  as  night  actually 
settled  down. 

We  did  n't  dare  have  a  fire  in  the  fireplace,  for  fear  it 
would  show  'em  our  loopholes,  and  we  did  n't  care  to  ad- 
vertise these  any  more  'n  was  necessary ;  but  we  set  a  lighted 
candle  far  back  in  the  fireplace,  to  see  to  load  by.  The  fire- 
place was  across  the  southwest  corner  o'  the  big  room. 
There  were  no  loopholes  in  the  library,  but  we  feared  the 
light  might  leak  through  a  chink  in  the  window  shutter, 
so  we  did  n't  have  any  light  there.  We  kept  one  man 
watchin'  through  loopholes  in  the  bedroom,  and  two 
watchin'  in  the  big  room,  and  were  able  to  cover  the  whole 
neighborhood. 

The  cook-shack  was  the  nearest  buildin',  and  only  the  two 
loopholes  in  the  north  end  o'  the  bedroom  covered  that;  so 
we  decided  to  fling  the  library  window  open  and  fire  through 
that,  in  case  they  made  a  rush  from  that  direction.  We 
knew  they  would  n't  be  likely  to  start  anything  until  after 
eleven,  as  the  moon  would  n't  set  until  then,  so  we  stretched 
out  on  the  floor,  leavin'  Oscar,  Horace,  and  Spider  on  watch. 

When  a  feller  has  been  keepin'  his  attention  wound  up  for 
several  days,  his  mainspring  finally  gets  strained,  and  the 
cogs  in  his  head  get  to  cuttin'  up  regardless.  I  managed  to 


386  FRIAR    TUCK 

get  a  purty  fair  dab  o'  sleep ;  but  it  seemed  as  though  I  dove 
straight  out  o'  wakefulness  into  a  dream,  and  it  was  some  the 
rottenest  dream  I  ever  had.  I  dreamed  that  Ty  Jones  had 
come  and  stooped  over  me  and  asked  me  what  I  thought  o' 
the  way  he  had  conducted  his  life.  In  a  dream  a  feller  is 
apt  to  do  the  foolest  things  imaginable,  so  I  looked  up  into 
Ty's  face  and  told  him  my  true  opinion.  I  sez  to  him: 
"  Ty,  if  your  brains  were  blastin'  powder,  they  would  n't 
make  enough  explosion  to  raise  your  hat." 

Ty  did  n't  take  kindly  to  this  opinion ;  so  he  jumped  into 
the  air  and  lightin'  on  my  face,  began  to  trample  it  with  his 
heels.  The  discomfort  of  this  wakened  me;  but  at  first 
I  did  n't  know  I  was  awake.  Several  men  had  been  actually 
tramplin'  on  me,  and  the'  was  a  general  fight  takin'  place  in 
that  room  which  was  hard  to  make  head  or  tail  of. 

In  the  flickerin'  candle  rays,  it  was  mighty  bothersome 
to  tell  who  from  which ;  so  the'  was  no  shootin'.  Aside  from 
Ty  and  Pepper  Kendal,  we  averaged  bigger  'n  they  did, 
except  Horace  and  Spider.  Spider  had  length  but  he  ran 
small  in  the  arms  and  legs,  while  Horace  was  twenty-two 
caliber  any  way  you  looked  at  him.  They  abused  Horace 
some  consid'able,  and  he  got  kicked  and  trampled  on  purty 
liberal ;  but  he  was  of  terrier  blood,  and  the  second  or  third 
time  he  got  kicked  into  a  corner,  he  crawled  out  on  his  hands 
an'  knees,  picked  out  a  pair  o'  legs  which  was  strange  to 
him,  wrapped  his  arms  about  'em,  and  fetched  their  owner 
to  the  floor  with  a  thump.  I  spared  enough  time  to  knock 
the  feller  on  the  head;  and  then  Horace  played  his  trick 
over  again. 

Olaf  was  a  mad  bull  in  a  mix-up  like  this  —  Horace  said 
he  had  beershirker  blood  in  him,  and  this  must  be  good  stuff 
for  it  made  Olaf  grin  when  Horace  accused  him  of  it.  O' 


THE    NIGHT-ATTACK  387 

course  the'  ain't  much  head  or  tail  to  such  a  fight,  and  in 
lookin'  back  on  it,  it 's  just  like  spurtin'  the  pages  of  a 
picture-book  with  your  thumb  and  tryin'  to  observe  the  pic- 
tures. I  saw  the  Friar  leanin'  again'  the  mantel-piece  with 
a  hurt  look  on  his  face ;  and  it  disgusted  me. 

In  times  o'  peace,  I  respected  his  prejudice  again'  violence ; 
but  this  was  no  time  for  foolishness,  and  I  recall  mutterin' 
to  myself  a  wish  that  Horace  might  have  the  loan  of  his 
big  body  for  the  next  half  hour.  I  saw  Olaf  knock  down 
two  men  with  one  blow,  I  saw  The  save  ol'  Tank's  life,  just 
as  a  half-breed  was  about  to  knife  him  from  behind;  but 
for  the  most  part  it  was  just  about  as  orderly  a  mess  as 
a  popper-ful  o'  corn  over  a  bed  o'  coals. 

The  fight  did  n't  last  more  'n  five  or  ten  minutes.  They 
had  banked  on  surprisin'  us ;  and  when  this  failed  they  were 
ready  to  back  out.  I  afterward  found  out  that  it  was  the 
Friar  who  had  caught  sight  of  'em  first,  he  not  bein'  able 
to  sleep. 

Ty  and  Pepper  Kendal  were  the  last  to  leave  the  big  room ; 
and  when  their  own  men  were  out  of  it,  they  opened  fire 
on  us ;  we  fired  back,  and  when  they  backed  into  the  library 
where  the  rest  o'  their  gang  had  disappeared,  we  made  a 
rush  for  'em.  I  supposed  they  had  come  in  through  the 
library  window,  and  I  called  for  a  candle,  hopin'  to  grab  Ty 
before  he  could  get  out. 

Spider  Kelley  had  already  picked  up  the  candle,  and  he 
had  it  in  the  doorway  in  a  second.  The  big  drawers  at  the 
bottom  o'  the  bookcase  were  swung  back,  showin'  a  stair- 
way behind  'em,  and  Ty  Jones  stood  at  the  top  with  Pepper 
Kendal  just  behind  him.  I  dove  through  the  air,  catchin' 
Ty's  wrist  with  my  left  hand  and  his  throat  with  my  right, 
Pepper  Kendal  bent  his  gun  on  me,  Olaf  grabbed  the  gun 


388  FRIAR    TUCK 

which  was  fired  just  as  The  grabbed  Pepper's  arms.  It 
looked  to  me  as  though  the  bullet  must  have  gone  into  Olaf 's 
head;  but  just  then  we  tripped,  rolled  down  the  stairs  and 
the  imitation  drawers  swung  to  behind  us. 

All  holts  were  broke  on  the  way  down,  and  when  I  reached 
the  bottom,  I  lay  as  quiet  as  a  frozen  moonbeam.  I  heard 
steps  runnin'  away  from  me  in  the  dark,  and  presently  the 
legs  of  the  man  next  to  me  moved,  and  he  got  up.  I  rose 
to  a  crouchin'  position,  held  my  arm  above  my  head,  and 
whispered,  "  Who  is  this  ?  " 

For  answer,  I  got  a  smash  on  the  arm  with  the  butt  of  a 
forty-five  which  drove  it  down  again'  my  head  hard  enough 
to  bring  me  to  my  knees  and  wake  up  my  horse-sense.  I 
might  'a'  known  they  'd  have  a  signal. 

I  waited  with  my  back  again'  the  wall  until  the  silence 
began  to  soak  into  my  nerve.  One  o'  my  guns  had  got  lost 
durin'  the  mess  upstairs ;  but  I  still  had  the  other,  and  when 
I  closed  my  grip  around  it,  it  seemed  like  I  was  shakin' 
hands  with  my  best  friend.  As  far  as  I  could  discover  I 
had  n't  been  shot ;  but  several  knife-cuts  and  bruises  began 
to  hum  little  tunes  which  was  n't  in  nowise  cheerin'.  I  just 
simply  don't  like  to  be  kept  waitin'  in  the  dark! 

After  a  bit  I  reached  my  hand  out  cautious,  and  felt  the 
heel  of  a  ridin'  boot.  I  examined  as  careful  as  though  the 
feller  inside  the  boot  was  a  disguised  bear-trap;  but  the' 
was  no  need.  His  neck  was  broke.  I  felt  of  his  face,  and  it 
was  soft  and  smooth.  The  face  of  the  young  feller  with 
the  boy's  eyes,  I  had  seen  put  to  bed  drunk  that  night  at 
Skelty's,  flashed  across  me,  and  I  gave  a  sigh ;  but  I  had  too 
much  on  my  mind  to  turn  soft,  so  I  began  to  feel  around 
again. 

Presently  my  fingers  struck  the  heel  of  another  boot.     I 


THE    NIGHT-ATTACK  389 

shut  down  on  my  bellows  until  the  breath  did  n't  get  down 
past  the  top  inch  o'  my  neck,  and  I  was  as  gentle  with  the 
heel  o'  that  boot,  as  though  it  was  a  bitin'  man's  eyeball; 
because  I  sure  felt  a  quiver  in  it.  I  slid  my  fingers  up  that 
boot  a  quarter  inch  at  a  time,  and  I  did  n't  use  no  more  rude- 
ness 'n  a  mouse  would  use  in  tryin'  to  sneak  a  cheese  piller 
out  from  under  a  sleepin'  cat.  When  my  fingers  finally 
struck  corduroy,  I  purt  nigh  gave  a  shout,  for  this  was  what 
Promotheus  wore. 

It  allus  embarrasses  a  man  to  be  felt  over  in  the  dark,  so 
I  took  my  time  with  The ;  but  after  locatin'  both  hands  and 
his  crooked  mouth,  I  discovered  he  'd  been  knocked  out 
complete.  I  rubbed  his  wrists  until  he  began  to  moan,  and 
then  I  pinched  his  nose  until  he  was  able  to  notice  my  name 
when  I  whispered.  He  had  bumped  his  head  in  fallin',  and 
it  made  him  sick  to  the  stomach ;  so  while  he  was  gettin' 
tuned  up  again,  I  prospected  around. 

I  crawled  up  the  stairs  but  couldn't  hear  a  sound,  I 
scratched  with  my  fingers,  knocked  softly,  and  pushed  until 
my  eyes  began  to  hurt ;  so  I  knew  'at  the  only  way  out  for 
us  was  to  follow  the  Cross-branders.  Things  had  happened 
so  sudden  up  above  that  I  had  n't  an  idy  as  to  how 
many  were  fightin'  us ;  but  I  was  still  purty  certain  that 
a  fair  sized  bunch  had  run  out  the  tunnel  just  as  I  dove 
into  it,  and  I  didn't  choose  to  bump  into  'em  in  the 
dark. 

When  I  came  down  the  stairs,  The  felt  able  again ;  so  we 
started  to  prospect.  We  agreed  that  strikin'  our  teeth  to- 
gether would  be  our  signal,  and  then  we  made  our  examina- 
tion. The  right  side  o'  the  tunnel  was  smooth,  the  way 
Nature  works,  the  left  side  was  rough,  and  indicated  man's 
doin's.  Aside  from  us  two,  the  only  other  one  in  the  tunnel 


39o  FRIAR    TUCK 

was  the  boy  with  the  broken  neck;   but  the  tunnel  opened 
into  a  big  cave,  and  we  did  n't  know  what  to  do  about  it. 

Finally  we  started  around  the  right  hand  wall,  me  crawlin' 
first,  and  The's  fingers  touchin'  my  boot  at  every  move. 
After  goin'  some  distance,  a  great,  straggly  gray  form  rose 
up  from  the  floor  o'  the  cave,  and  gave  me  a  shock  which 
stopped  my  entire  works.  I  kept  my  presence  o'  mind  all 
right ;  but  I  'd  'a'  been  mighty  glad  to  swap  it  off  for  absence 
of  body.  This  was  a  most  ghastly  lookin'  form,  and  I  nestled 
up  again'  the  side  o'  the  wall,  and  felt  my  hand  back  for  The. 
He  crawled  up  alongside  o'  me,  and  when  he  spied  it,  he 
gave  a  start  which  made  his  teeth  click.  "  What 's  that  ?  " 
he  whispered. 

It 's  funny  how  the  mind  works.  This  form  did  n't  re- 
semble anything  earthly ;  so  I  had  n't  really  tried  to  figure 
on  it  much ;  but  when  The  threw  his  question  at  me,  I  looked 
at  the  shape  more  careful,  and  grew  ashamed  o'  myself. 
Here  was  I,  a  feller  who  had  spent  consid'able  time  around 
mines,  and  yet  had  got  all  balled  up  over  seein'  things 
underground. 

"  That 's  your  old  friend,  daylight,  comin'  down  through 
a  hole,  The,"  I  whispered  so  prompt  that  I  doubt  if  he 
noticed  any  gap. 

He  gave  a  sniff  through  his  nose,  and  then  we  crept  on  to 
where  this  light  was  comin'  in  through  the  opposite  tunnel. 
It  was  mighty  weak  and  sickly  lookin'  light,  but  the  outline 
o'  the  tunnel  mouth  soon  got  perfectly  plain  to  us.  Every 
few  inches  we  stopped  to  listen;  but  we  got  clear  to  the 
mouth  without  hearin'  anything.  Then  we  paused.  Just  at 
that  time,  I  'd  have  given  right  smart  to  have  had  my 
eyes  fastened  on  like  those  of  a  lobster  I  once  saw  in 
a  window  down  at  Frisco.  This  insect  had  his  eyes  fixed 


THE    NIGHT-ATTACK  391 

to  the  ends  o'  fingers  which  he  could  stretch  out  in  any 
direction. 

To  be  honest,  I  felt  some  reluctant  to  push  my  face  around 
that  corner ;  but  when  I  did  there  was  n't  a  thing  in  sight. 
The  tunnel  stretched  ahead  of  us  for  what  seemed  miles, 
but  we  could  n't  see  the  outer  openin',  although  the  light 
was  strong  enough  to  recognize  each  other  by.  The  was  a 
sight,  for  the  bump  on  his  head  had  leaked  continuous ;  but 
it  hadn't  disabled  him  none,  so  we  drew  back  to  consult  a 
little. 

If  we  had  known  whether  they  were  ahead  or  behind  us, 
it  would  have  been  easy  to  decide;  but  under  the  circum- 
stances, we  hardly  knew  what  to  do.  Bein'  in  the  dark  was 
one  thing;  but  bein'  out  where  we  could  be  seen  was  still 
another ;  so  we  thought  full  and  deep. 

After  a  few  minutes  I  told  The  a  little  story  about  a  feller 
I  helped  to  pick  up  after  he  had  jumped  from  a  thirty-foot 
ledge  onto  a  pile  o'  stone.  "  Why  did  you  do  it  ?  "  sez  I. 
He  blinked  his  eyes  at  me  a  time  'r  two,  hove  a  long  sigh, 
an'  said :  "  The'  was  a  purple  dragon  in  front  o'  me,  a  lot  o' 
long-legged  yaller  snakes  back  o'  me,  and  the  peskiest  pink 
jack-rabbit  you  ever  saw  kept  swoopin'  into  my  face  an' 
peckin'  at  my  eyes.  If  I  ever  drink  another  drop,  I  hope  it  '11 
drown  me." 

The  considered  this  story  careful,  an'  then  we  crawled  out 
into  the  tunnel,  rose  to  our  feet,  an'  ran  along  crouchin'. 
The  tunnel  ran  upward  at  a  sharp  incline,  which  was  why 
the  light  came  down  it  so  far.  We  kept  to  the  right  wall, 
and  after  goin'  some  distance,  we  came  across  a  small  cave. 
In  this  we  found  another  dead  Cross-brander ;  but  we 
were  n't  enough  interested  in  him  to  risk  strikin'  a  light ;  so 
we  sat  down  a  moment  to  rest  and  listen. 


392  FRIAR    TUCK 

Presently  we  noticed  some  curious  noises,  but  for  some 
minutes  we  could  n't  decide  on  what  they  were.  Suddenly 
The  grabbed  my  wrist  an'  said :  "  That 's  shootin' ;  that 's 
what  that  is !  " 

It  was  as  plain  as  home-cookin'  the  minute  he  pointed  it 
out ;  so  we  rose  to  our  feet  and  made  a  rush  for  the  mouth 
o'  the  cave.  We  came  out  about  half  way  up  the  face  o'  the 
cliff;  and  for  a  moment  we.  paused  to  admire  Ty  Jones's 
foxiness.  This  openin'  could  n't  be  seen  from  below,  nor 
noticed  from  above,  and  for  the  most  part  the  whole  tunnel 
was  natural,  only  havin'  been  hand-widened  in  three  or  four 
places. 

The  fightin'  was  goin'  on  near  the  face  o'  the  cliff  between 
us  an'  the  mouth  of  the  ravine;  so  we  circled  around  until 
we  caught  sight  of  'em.  The  first  feller  we  made  out  was 
Mexican  Slim ;  so  we  knew  our  boys  had  n't  been  ambushed 
up  above,  and  this  raised  our  spirits  like  a  balloon.  We  crept 
up  until  we  could  get  good  angle-shots,  hid  ourselves,  gave 
the  old  Diamond  Dot  yell,  and  began  to  shoot.  Ty's  men 
had  been  losin'  their  bullet-appetite  for  some  time,  and  they 
took  us  to  be  genuwine  reinforcements.  They  were  well 
planted  where  they  were,  but  they  started  to  retreat,  and  we 
crowded  'em  close. 

Then  it  was  that  Ty  made  Olaf 's  word  good :  he  exposed 
himself  to  shots,  he  rallied  his  men,  and  that  wolf-grin  never 
left  his  face ;  but  still  the  tide  had  changed,  and  he  had  to 
go  back  with  the  rest.  The  woman,  with  her  hands  tied 
behind  her,  was  in  charge  o'  the  Chink,  who  was  tall  and 
heavy-set  with  a  dark,  evil,  leathery  face.  He  kept  a  grin 
on  his  face,  too,  which  reminded  me  most  of  a  rattlesnake  at 
sheddin'  time.  He  used  the  woman  as  a  shield,  an'  this 
checked  our  fire  an'  kept  us  dodgin'  for  new  positions.  Still, 


THE    NIGHT-ATTACK  393 

all  in  all,  this  part  o'  the  fight  was  about  as  satisfactory  as 
any  I  ever  took  part  in. 

Finally  they  retreated  to  the  dip  where  the  tunnel  came 
out,  and  we  had  to  skirmish  up  the  rocks  to  keep  our  van- 
tage. Soon  we  discovered  that  Ty  had  lost  control  of  his 
men.  He,  Pepper  Kendal,  and  two  others  stood  in  the  mouth 
o'  the  tunnel,  and  took  a  few  shots  at  us  before  disappearin' ; 
but  six  of  his  men  ran  straight  across  the  dip,  and  down  the 
other  side  toward  the  crick.  Tillte  Dutch  was  standin'  close 
to  me,  and  I  asked  him  where  the  hosses  were.  He  said  they 
were  tied  across  the  crick  just  above  the  upper  ford;  so 
I  sent  him  for  'em  full  speed. 

Horace  and  Tank  stayed  to  watch  the  mouth  o'  the  openin', 
while  the  rest  of  us  wrangled  the  six  Cross-branders  through 
the  cottonwoods.  They  had  a  good  start,  and  so  had  time 
to  cut  the  wire  and  cross  the  crick  toward  some  broken  land 
on  the  left.  By  this  time  Tillte  had  tied  the  reins  and  thrown 
'em  over  the  horns  o'  the  saddles  so  as  to  lead  a  string,  and 
he  came  lopin'  into  view. 

Slim,  two  o'  the  Simpson  boys,  Olaf,  and  myself  mounted 
and  cut  off  the  six  Cross-branders,  who  were  too  weary  to 
even  scatter.  They  had  had  enough  and  surrendered.  We 
tied  their  hands,  and  herded  'em  back  to  the  old  shack,  where 
Oscar,  Spider,  and  three  disabled  Cross-branders  were 
runnin'  a  little  private  hospital.  We  fixed  up  wounds  as 
well  as  we  could,  sat  the  last  six  on  a  bench  along  the  wall, 
and  left  Dick  Simpson  to  guard  'em.  Spider  had  been  shot 
and  cut  consid'able ;  but  he  was  able  to  stagger  around  some, 
while  Oscar  had  been  punctured  below  the  ribs,  and  things 
looked  bad  for  him.  Olaf  had  been  shot  in  the  head,  all 
right,  just  as  The  and  I  dove  down  the  stairway  the  night 
before,  but  his  skull  was  bullet-proof,  so  nothin'  came  of  it. 


394  FRIAR    TUCK 

The  Friar  had  been  ransackin'  the  locality,  and  had  found 
one  o'  the  Simpson  boys  dead,  and  one  badly  hurt.  Badly 
crippled,  as  we  were,  we  did  n't  see  any  way  to  get  at  Ty 
except  to  starve  him  out.  First  off,  we  made  some  coffee, 
and  those  who  were  n't  hurt  dangerous  were  given  some 
side-meat  and  corn  bread ;  for,  truth  to  tell,  we  were  about 
once  through.  We  spent  the  afternoon  under  a  tree  half  way 
between  the  mouth  o'  the  tunnel,  and  the  old  cabin,  so  as  to 
be  handy  in  case  we  were  needed.  After  talkin'  it  all  over, 
we  could  n't  quite  see  why  they  had  split  up,  some  of  'em 
tryin'  to  escape,  and  some  stayin'  with  Ty. 

Finally  I  went  to  the  cabin,  durin'  a  time  the  Friar  was 
on  watch  at  the  cave  mouth,  and  picked  out  the  weakest 
lookin'  of  the  prisoners.  I  brought  him  down,  and  we  tor- 
tured him  with  questions  until  he  got  fuddled  and  told  us 
that  the  two  who  had  stuck  to  Ty  had  been  so  bad  hurt, 
they  could  n't  go  any  farther ;  but  that  neither  Ty  nor  Pepper 
were  hurt  to  speak  of. 

The  fact  is,  that  in  a  general  fight  a  feller  loses  his  aim 
complete.  We  had  all  aimed  at  Ty  and  Pepper  the  most, 
and  here  they  were  the  two  not  hurt  at  all.  As  darkness  fell, 
the  Friar  couldn't  hold  himself  in.  All  afternoon  he  had 
done  what  he  could  for  the  wounded ;  but  at  thought  of  the 
woman  spendin'  another  night  in  the  cave  with  those  men, 
he  became  as  wild-eyed  as  a  bronc  at  his  first  brandin'. 
Durin'  the  afternoon,  Tank  had  stiffened  until  he  could  n't 
do  much  travelin' ;  but  I  saw  the  Friar  had  his  mind  made 
up  to  take  a  plunge,  so  I  tried  to  fix  things  to  prevent  it. 

Olaf,  two  o'  the  Simpson  boys,  Promotheus,  Tillte,  Slim. 
Horace,  and  myself  lined  up  as  bein'  still  in  workin'  order ; 
but  while  he  was  in  the  act  of  claimin'  to  be  all  right,  Slim 
doubled  up  in  a  faint,  and  we  found  he  had  been  bad  hurt 


THE    NIGHT-ATTACK  395 

without  even  himself  knowin'  of  it ;  so  countin'  Horace  who 
had  two  black  eyes  and  a  shot  through  the  fore-arm,  the' 
was  seven  of  us  able  to  get  about  purty  nimble.  Hid  away 
in  the  cave,  somewhere,  were  Ty  Jones,  Pepper  Kendal,  and 
the  Chink,  unhurt  so  far  as  we  knew,  and  two  others,  still 
probably  able  to  help  a  little. 

We  placed  a  couple  o'  logs  again'  the  fake  drawers  in  the 
library,  and  left  Tank  to  take  charge  of  the  prisoners  and 
the  cabin.  Then  we  rustled  up  some  tarps  from  the  bunk- 
shack,  and  prepared  to  camp  near  the  openin'  with  a  man 
allus  on  guard,  to  prevent  them  from  comin'  out  —  and  the 
Friar  from  goin'  in.  We  kept  a  lantern  lit  under  shelter  of 
a  rock,  and  made  ready  to  rest  up  a  bit. 

I  had  told  all  the  fellers  to  watch  the  Friar  close,  for  he 
just  simply  could  n't  get  the  upper  hand  of  himself.  He 
tried  his  best  to  simmer  down  and  go  to  sleep,  but  every  few 
minutes  he  'd  boil  over  again.  I  lay  awake  in  my  tarp 
watchin'  him  for  some  time;  but  I  was  so  sore  and  weary 
myself  I  could  scarcely  recall  what  business  I  was  on,  and 
first  I  knew  I  had  drifted  off  —  and  been  shook  awake  again. 

Promotheus  was  bendin'  over  me  with  the  news  'at  the 
Friar  had  decided  to  go  into  the  tunnel,  and  they  could  n't 
hold  him  back.  I  sprang  up  and  started  for  the  opening 
with  the  rest  following  me.  Dan  Simpson  had  relieved  The 
on  watch  and  when  he  found  what  was  in  the  Friar's  mind, 
he  had  crept  down  and  told  The,  who  had  awakened  the  rest 
of  us. 

We  reached  the  Friar,  just  as  he  was  goin'  into  the  openin'. 
I  called  to  him  in  a  low  tone;  but  he  only  shook  his  head. 
It  was  eleven  o'clock,  and  the  shadow  from  the  moon  had 
already  crept  out  from  the  base  o'  the  cliff  almost  to  the 
openin'.  I  saw  that  the  Friar  had  took  the  bit;  so  I  whis- 


396  FRIAR    TUCK 

pered  to  the  others :  "  I  am  goin'  in  there  with  him ;  but 
more  'n  this  would  be  bad.  We  'd  be  in  each  other's  way. 
Listen  and  watch,  but  do  not  follow  us  in." 

"  I  know  the  way  as  well  as  you,  and  we  could  keep  side 
by  side,"  sez  Promotheus ;  but  I  shook  my  head. 

He  came  over  to  the  openin'  and  said  in  a  low  tone :  "  I 
haven't  time  to  make  you  understand;  but  —  but  I  just 
have  to  go  in  with  you." 

"  If  you  come,  the  rest  '11  come  too,"  sez  I,  exasperated. 

"  You  fellers  stay  here,"  sez  he  to  them  in  a  pleadin'  tone ; 
"  but  I  have  reasons.  I  just  have  to  go  in." 

So  we  shed  our  boots  and  started  down  the  incline  after 
the  Friar,  Promotheus  touchin'  my  feet  with  his  fingers  at 
every  step  I  crawled.  I  did  n't  want  to  be  there,  I  could  n't 
see  how  we  could  do  any  good ;  but  the  Friar  had  made  my 
world  for  me,  such  as  it  was,  and  I  understood  better  'n  the 
rest  what  was  gnawin'  at  his  heart ;  so  I  had  n't  any  choice. 
I  had  to  go  in,  and  somethin'  inside  Promotheus  drove  him 
in  also.  The  only  crumb  o'  comfort  I  could  find,  lay  in  the 
fact  that  Horace  had  been  winged,  and  so  could  n't  f oiler  us, 
whether  he  wanted  to  or  not. 


CHAPTER   FORTY-TWO 

HAND   TO    HAND 

AT  first  it  was  black  as  pitch;  but  I  crawled  as  fast  as  I 
could  in  the  hope  of  catchin'  up  with  the  Friar.  It  is  in- 
stinct with  most  men  to  follow  the  right  wall  when  goin' 
through  a  strange  place  in  the  dark,  though  I  never  could 
see  why.  A  man  carries  his  weapon  in  the  right  hand  and 
naturally  ought  to  be  as  free  with  it  as  possible.  Still,  most 
men  do  it,  so  I  follered  the  right  wall,  hopin'  each  time  I  put 
out  my  hand  it  would  touch  the  Friar. 

After  a  time,  I  saw  a  faint  glimmer  o'  light  to  the  left, 
and  I  stopped  and  pointed  it  out  to  The.  We  came  to  the 
conclusion  that  they  had  a  candle  lighted  in  the  offset  where 
we  had  come  upon  the  body,  and  we  discussed  whether  they 
were  likely  to  be  in  there,  or  had  gone  on  farther  back  and 
left  the  light  to  see  any  one  who  tried  to  crawl  after  'em. 
I  held  out  'at  they  would  n't  expect  any  one  to  crawl  after 
'em ;  but  The  said  'at  Ty  would  be  likely  to  go  into  just  such 
a  place  himself,  and  so  would  expect  others  to  do  the  same. 
Ty  certainly  had  the  way  of  impressin'  his  own  men. 

When  we  got  a  little  closer,  I  lay  flat  and  scanned  along 
the  floor,  tryin'  to  make  out  the  Friar  between  me  and  the 
light ;  but  I  could  n't  see  him,  and  we  went  on  again.  I  hope 
I  may  never  have  to  do  any  more  such  work  as  this.  Creepin' 
along  in  the  dark  eats  up  a  feller's  nerve  like  a  forest  fire. 

When  we  got  so  close  'at  I  could  see  my  hands  by  the 
light,  I  sent  The  across  to  the  other  side,  remindin'  him  to 


398  FRIAR    TUCK 

knock  his  teeth  should  he  chance  upon  the  Friar,  or  in  case 
we  come  together  again,  ourselves. 

Then  I  lay  flat  with  my  hat  down  low,  and  hudged  myself 
along  with  my  elbows  and  toes.  I  could  n't  even  make  out 
The  across  the  tunnel,  which  was  only  about  twelve  feet 
wide,  and  just  for  the  fraction  of  a  second  it  came  across 
me  that  he  had  formerly  been  a  Cross-brander,  himself ;  but 
this  thought  did  n't  live  long  enough  to  draw  its  second 
breath. 

Finally  I  reached  the  spot  where  the  light  threw  a  splash 
on  the  walls  and  floor,  and  I  made  my  gun  ready  and  stuck 
out  my  neck  in  what  was  the  most  breathless  silence  I  ever 
tried  to  listen  to.  Across  the  splash  o'  light  in  front  of  me, 
all  was  a  solid  wall  o'  darkness ;  and  I  'd  have  paid  over 
quite  a  sum  to  know  what  eyes  were  lookin'  out  of  it. 

Farther  and  farther  I  pushed  myself  into  the  light  without 
seein'  a  thing;  until  finally  I  saw  the  candle,  itself,  and  be- 
side it  —  the  Friar. 

I  wriggled  across  the  tunnel  just  as  The  crept  into  the 
room  from  his  side,  and  we  felt  a  little  better  to  be  in  the 
light,  together  again.  The  body  still  lay  again'  the  wall,  and 
The  looked  at  the  face ;  but  he  did  n't  know  it.  The  Friar 
hadn't  seen  or  heard  anything,  either;  and  we  were  up  a 
tree  to  the  top  branches.  We  talked  it  all  over,  tryin'  to 
imagine  what  we  would  do  under  the  same  circumstances, 
and  finally  decided  they  had  gone  on  down  the  tunnel, 
leavin'  a  man  on  guard  just  below  the  light,  and  that  the 
man  had  gone  to  sleep. 

"  Well,"  sez  I  after  we  had  discussed  things  around  in  a 
circle  for  a  while,  "  here  we  are  holed  up  again,  as  cozy  as  a 
cavey  o'  rats  with  traps  set  at  all  the  openin's  and  en-thusi- 
astic  terrier  dogs  diggin'  down  from  above.  If  it 's  not  bein' 


HAND    TO    HAND  399 

too  inquisitive,  Friar,  what  plan  did  you  have  in  comin'  down 
here?" 

"  I  wanted  to  be  close  to  her,"  sez  Friar  Tuck.  "  I  kept 
thinkin'  o'  how  lonely  it  must  be  for  her  through  the  dark, 
and  I  hoped  the'  might  be  some  chance  o'  helpin'  her  to 
escape.  I  did  not  have  any  definite  plan  —  only  faith  and 
hope." 

"  Like  the  shark  which  swallered  the  parasol,"  sez  I,  for 
I  was  consid'able  put  out ;  "  he  had  faith  in  his  digestion 
and  hoped  the  parasol  was  some  new  sort  o'  health-food. 
But  to  get  down  to  facts —  Have  you  any  weapon  with 
you,  and  are  you  willin'  to  fight?" 

"  I  have  no  weapon,"  sez  the  Friar ;  "  but  I  am  willin' 
to  do  whatever  seems  best.  I  am  trusting  in  the  same  power 
which  upheld  Gideon,  and  I  ask  to  see  no  farther  than  he 
saw." 

This  was  the  Friar  all  right,  so  I  merely  swallowed  a 
couple  o'  times  and  did  n't  say  anything.  Whether  he  lived 
or  died  was  the  same  to  the  Friar,  as  whether  he  lived  in 
Idaho  or  Montana  would  be  to  another  man;  so  I  saved 
myself  a  certain  amount  of  irritation  by  just  thinkin'  quietly 
as  to  what  was  best  for  us  to  try.  Fact  was,  I  did  n't  take 
as  much  stock  in  Gideon  just  then  as  I  did  in  Ty  Jones. 

"  I  '11  tell  you  what  I  think  is  best,"  I  sez  after  a  bit ;  "  for 
me  to  crawl  down  the  hall  in  the  hope  that  the  watcher 
really  has  gone  to  sleep;  while  you  two  stand  ready  in  this 
offset.  If  they  chase  me,  I  '11  run  up  the  tunnel,  and  you 
spring  out  and  take  'em  at  a  disadvantage  as  they  go  by." 

O'  course  they  both  wanted  to  do  the  crawlin',  but  it  was 
my  plan,  so  I  stuck  out  for  it,  and  started.  I  was  really  glad 
to  be  out  o'  the  light  again,  and  I  crawled  as  gentle  as  though 
crossin'  a  bridge  of  eggs.  Before  long  my  fingers  struck  a 


400  FRIAR    TUCK 

boot,  and  I  felt  of  it  ex-treme-lee  careful.  If  ever  I  go 
blind,  my  experience  durin'  those  days  will  help  consid'able 
in  transferrin'  my  eyesight  to  my  fingers. 

The  feller  had  toppled  over  again'  the  right  wall,  and  I 
crept  up  alongside,  holdin'  my  gun  by  the  barrel,  and  ready 
to  swat  his  head  as  soon  as  I  had  located  it;  but  the'  was 
no  use  —  the  man  had  already  died.  He  had  been  shot  twice, 
but  they  thought  he  could  last  a  while  on  guard,  and  this 
was  why  we  had  been  able  to  cross  the  lighted  place. 

Just  beyond  this,  I  came  upon  another  offset,  on  the  oppo- 
site side  from  where  the  candle  was.  We  had  n't  noticed 
it  that  mornin'  'cause  we  had  gone  out  along  the  other  wall. 
I  heard  some  heavy  breathin'  in  here;  but  I  also  heard 
some  one  tossin'  about  an'  mutterin',  and  I  hardly  dared  risk 
an  examination.  I  looked  back  at  the  splash  of  light,  and 
it  seemed  mighty  cheery  and  sociable,  compared  with  the 
darkness  and  company  I  was  in. 

It 's  astonishin'  the  way  pictures  fly  across  a  feller's  mind 
at  such  a  time :  I  saw  the  boy  down  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs, 
I  saw  him  as  he  must  have  been,  a  few  years  before  some 
quick,  rash  deed  of  his  had  drawn  a  veil  across  the  laughter 
in  his  eyes ;  I  saw  the  feller  in  the  offset,  and  wondered  how 
much  it  had  taken  to  turn  the  expression  of  his  face  into 
that  beastlike  hunger  for  revenge,  and  then  dozens  of 
schemes  and  plans  for  capturin'  Ty  began  to  flash  upon  me ; 
but  each  time,  the  presence  of  the  woman  spoiled  every- 
thing. They  had  used  her  for  a  shield  once,  they  would  do 
it  again,  and  I  could  n't  see  a  way  to  get  around  her. 

We  knew  'at  Ty  had  vowed  he  would  never  be  taken  alive ; 
and  I  could  n't  see  what  we  would  do  with  him  even  if  we 
did  take  him  alive ;  but  I  could  see  that  he  would  take  pleas- 
ure in  draggin'  as  big  a  bunch  into  the  next  world  with  him 


HANDTOHAND  401 

as  possible,  and  yet  every  scheme  'at  came  to  me  was  blocked 
by  the  presence  of  the  woman.  Finally  I  crept  a  little  way 
into  the  offset.  My  hand  touched  a  piece  of"  cloth,  I  felt 
over  it  with  nothin'  except  the  ridges  on  my  fingers  touchin' ; 
but  just  when  I  made  sure  it  was  the  Chink,  he  moved  and 
sat  up.  I  stopped  breathin' ;  but  after  a  minute,  he  sighed 
and  settled  back. 

I  waited  a  little  longer  and  then  crawled  back  and  told 
what  I  had  discovered.  "  If  the'  was  only  some  way  we 
could  throw  a  light  into  that  offset,"  sez  I,  "  I  think  we  could 
fix  'em." 

We  studied  over  this  for  some  time  before  the  Friar 
thought  up  a  way  which  seemed  worth  tryin'.  I  said  I  'd 
go  back  and  stay  at  the  far  side  o'  the  openin',  and  when 
they  brought  the  rope  back,  to  come  right  on  with  it  along 
the  left  wall,  and  I  'd  knock  my  teeth  together  to  show  it  was 
me  —  provided  I  was  still  there  and  able.  So  the  Friar 
pulled  off  his  boots,  and  The  kept  watch  in  the  offset  while 
the  Friar  ran  back.  I  thought  it  must  be  several  days  since 
we  'd  come  in,  but  he  looked  at  his  watch  before  startin', 
and  it  was  only  two  o'clock. 

From  where  I  was,  I  could  make  out  the  shape  o'  the  feller 
they  had  put  on  watch,  and  knew  I  could  keep  cases  on  all 
within  the  little  rock  room.  After  an  age,  I  saw  two  forms 
creep  like  ghosts  out  of  the  dark  beyond  the  candle,  and  ooze 
into  the  offset  without  makin'  a  sound.  Then  in  a  moment, 
Promotheus  came  stealin'  along  the  wall  with  the  end  of 
the  rope.  I  made  my  signal  to  him,  and  he  went  on  down 
the  tunnel,  slowly  pullin'  the  rope  after  him. 

I  was  mighty  curious  to  see  how  they  had  fixed  the  lan- 
tern, which  they  were  to  light  with  the  candle  in  the  offset, 
and  it  made  me  feel  a  lot  better  when  it  came  out  of  the 


402  FRIAR    TUCK 

recess.  Horace  had  done  the  fixin',  I  afterward  found  out, 
and  it  had  nearly  broke  his  heart  not  to  come  in  with  it; 
but  he  realized  that  it  was  necessary  to  have  an  outer  guard, 
so  he  had  stayed  with  the  two  Simpson  boys.  He  had  put 
the  lantern  into  a  box  after  nailin'  a  couple  o'  short  pieces 
of  rope  on  the  bottom  for  runners;  and  now  it  came  slidin' 
along  without  makin'  a  sound.  He  had  sawed  a  piece  out  of 
the  side,  so  that  all  the  light  came  up  again'  the  ceilin',  and 
onto  the  side  where  the  openin'  was. 

Slowly  it  came  along,  and  I  stood  in  the  shadow  watchin' 
it.  Finally  it  fell  on  the  face  of  the  man  lyin'  near  the 
openin',  and  I  saw  he  was  one  of  those  who  had  been  at 
Skelty's  that  night  —  for  all  I  know,  it  was  his  hand  I  had 
seen  raisin'  the  window  to  my  room.  Next,  it  lighted  up 
the  openin',  itself;  and  then  The  stopped  pullin'  and  crept 
up  opposite  me.  We  heard  'em  sighin'  and  groanin',  in  the 
recess,  and  finally  the  woman's  voice  gave  a  weary  moan  as 
she  came  awake. 

In  a  second,  Ty's  voice  was  heard,  askin'  what  was  the 
matter ;  and  we  all  braced  up  our  nerves.  A  weak,  delirious 
voice  started  to  babble,  but  it  was  broken  by  a  shot,  and  a 
bullet  ripped  through  the  box,  but  without  puttin'  out  the 
light.  I  started  across  the  hall;  but  The  had  already  seen 
it,  and  had  taken  the  rope  and  ran  down  the  tunnel  with  it. 
He  turned  the  box,  so  'at  just  the  left  edge  o'  the  light 
touched  the  openin',  and  then  came  across  to  my  side.  We 
weren't  in  a  black  shadow  now;  but  still,  with  the  light  in 
their  faces,  it  would  have  been  hard  to  see  us. 

A  hand  reached  out  of  the  openin',  and  fired  in  our  direc- 
tion, I  dropped  to  my  knee  and  aimed  at  the  hand,  but  neither 
shot  counted;  and  for  the  next  few  minutes,  all  we  heard 
was  that  weak  voice,  babblin'  indistinctly.  It  had  n't  worked 


HANDTOHAND  403 

out  as  I  thought  it  would.  I  figured  that  they  'd  be  sur- 
prised when  the  light  shone  in  their  faces,  and  would  rush 
out  and  give  us  a  chance.  Now  that  it  was  too  late,  I  thought 
up  half  a  dozen  better  schemes. 

Even  while  I  was  thinkin'  up  a  perfect  one,  I  saw  a  form 
come  out  from  the  recess,  and  threw  my  gun  up  —  but  I 
did  n't  snap  the  hammer.  It  was  the  woman,  and  behind  her 
I  could  make  out  the  shaved  head  o'  the  Chinaman. 

We  all  stayed  silent  for  some  time,  an'  then  Ty's  voice 
said :  "  Well,  what  kind  of  a  settlement  do  you  fellers 
want  ?  " 

He  spoke  as  self-composed  as  though  puttin'  through  a 
beef-dicker,  and  no  reply  was  made  for  several  seconds. 
Then,  as  no  one  else  spoke,  I  sez :  "  All  we  want  is  just  the 
woman  and  what 's  left  o'  your  outfit,  Ty." 

"  Who 's  that  speakin'  ?  "  sez  Ty. 

"  He 's  generally  called  Happy  Hawkins,  Ty,"  sez  I. 

"  Who  's  in  charge  o'  your  gang  ?  "  sez  he. 

"  Dinky  Bradford,"  sez  I  after  thinkin'  a  moment ;  "  but 
I  'm  delegated  to  speak  for  him." 

"  Tell  ya  what  I  '11  do,"  sez  Ty ;  "I  '11  trade  ya  the  woman 
for  Dinky  Bradford  an'  the  Singin'  Parson.  Send  those 
two  in  to  me,  and  I  '11  send  her  out  to  you." 

This  was  the  foolest  proposition  ever  I  heard  of.  The 
woman  would  n't  'a'  been  any  use  to  us  without  the  Friar. 
"  Dinky  Bradford  is  guardin'  the  mouth  o'  the  tunnel,"  sez 
I ;  "  but  he  would  n't  stand  for  any  such  nonsense,  nohow." 

"  Is  the  preacher  here  ?  "  asked  Ty. 

"  Yes,  I  am  here,"  sez  the  Friar,  steppin'  out  from  the 
offset  and  comin'  toward  us.  Olaf,  who  was  with  him, 
caught  his  arm  and  kept  him  from  exposin'  himself. 

"  Damn  you,"  sez  Ty,  slow  an'  deliberate.     "  I  hate  you 


404  FRIAR    TUCK 

worse  'n  any  man  in  this  territory.  You  're  at  the  bottom 
of  all  this  kick-up.  You  're  the  one  which  has  turned  my 
own  men  again'  me;  and  all  I  ask  is  a  chance  to  settle  it 
out  with  you." 

"  You  're  mistaken  if  you  think  that  I  advised  this 
method,"  began  the  Friar;  but  Ty  broke  in,  and  said: 
"  Never  mind  any  o'  that  preacher-talk.  I  know  what 's 
what,  and  I  'm  all  prepared  to  have  you  hide  behind  your 
religion,  after  havin'  started  all  the  trouble.  I  '11  offer  you 
a  plan  which  any  man  would  accept  —  but  I  don't  class  you 
as  a  man.  The  fair  way  to  settle  this  would  be  for  the  men 
who  are  with  us  to  empty  their  guns  an'  lay  'em  on  the  floor, 
then  you  and  me  strip  to  the  waist  an'  fight  it  out  with  knives. 
They  have  n't  anything  at  stake ;  but  I  suppose  you  '11  be 
true  to  your  callin',  and  make  them  take  all  the  risk." 

"  I  want  to  be  true  to  my  callin',"  sez  the  Friar ;  "  and 
fightin'  with  knives  is  n't  part  o'  my  callin'." 

Ty  laughed  as  mean  as  a  man  ever  did  laugh;  and  both 
Olaf  and  I  offered  to  take  the  Friar's  place ;  but  Ty  said  he 
did  n't  have  anything  special  again'  us  any  more  'n  he  'd  have 
again'  the  Friar's  ridin'  hoss;  and  then  he  offered  to  fight 
the  Friar  and  Dinky  Bradford  at  the  same  time. 

He  kept  on  roastin'  the  Friar  till  I  bet  I  was  blushin' ;  but 
the  Friar  just  stood  out  straight  in  the  gloom  o'  the  tunnel 
and  shook  his  head  no.  Then  the  woman  took  a  half  step 
forward,  an'  the  Chink  jerked  her  back,  twistin'  her  wrist 
and  makin'  her  give  a  smothered  scream. 

I  had  moved  the  box  around  to  give  us  a  little  more  light  ; 
and  when  she  screamed,  I  saw  the  blood  rush  up  the  Friar's 
pale  face  to  his  eyes,  where  it  burst  into  flame.  Livin'  fire 
it  was,  and  in  a  flash  it  had  burned  away  his  religion,  his 
scruples  again'  violence,  the  whole  outer  shell  o'  civilization, 


HANDTOHAND  405 

and  left  him  just  a  male  human  with  his  woman  in  the 
power  of  another.  "  Strip,"  he  said,  and  his  words  rolled 
down  the  tunnel  like  a  growl  of  a  grizzly.  "  Strip,  and 
fight  for  your  life,  for  I  intend  to  destroy  you." 

I  can  still  hear  the  laugh  Ty  gave  when  the  Friar  said  this. 
"  Destroy  me  ?  "  he  said.  "  Destroy  me  ?  That 's  a  good  one ! 
Now,  do  your  men  agree  to  let  us  go  free  if  I  win  ?  " 

"  I  do,"  sez  The. 

"  I  do,"  said  I,  after  I  'd  taken  another  look  at  the  Friar, 
who  was  already  unbuttonin'  his  shirt. 

"  I  do  —  if  you  fight  fair,"  said  Olaf  slowly. 

"  Then  one  of  ya  hold  the  lantern  while  we  empty  the 
guns,"  said  Ty. 

I  did  n't  like  this  part  of  it ;  but  could  n't  see  any  way  out ; 
so  while  The  held  the  lantern,  one  on  each  side  emptied  a 
gun  and  tossed  it  to  the  center  of  the  tunnel.  We  emptied 
all  of  ours,  and  they  emptied  all  of  theirs,  and  then  while 
Ty  was  takin'  off  his  shirt,  I  went  up  to  the  Friar.  When  I 
saw  the  taut  muscles  ripplin'  beneath  his  white  skin,  I  felt 
comforted;  but  when  I  saw  him  holdin'  his  knife  point 
down,  the  way  they  do  in  the  picture-books,  I  got  worried 
again. 

"  Take  your  knife  the  other  way,  Friar,"  I  whispered ; 
"  and  strike  up  under  the  floatin'  ribs  on  his  left  side.  That 's 
the  way  to  his  heart." 

"  I  know  how  to  fight  with  a  knife,"  he  snapped ;  so  I 
did  n't  say  any  more.  Horace  had  become  a  gun-fighter, 
here  was  the  Friar  claimin'  to  know  the  knife  game,  and  if 
the  woman  had  stepped  out  and  challenged  the  winner  to  a 
fight  with  stones,  why,  I  was  so  meek  I  would  n't  'a'  got  het 
up  over  it. 

Then  Ty  Jones  came  out  of  the  other  offset,  stripped  to 


406  FRIAR    TUCK 

the  waist  also  and  holdin'  his  knife  in  his  left  hand.  The 
woman  had  gone  into  the  niche  on  our  side,  me  an'  Olaf 
leaned  again'  our  wall,  Pepper  Kendal  and  the  Chink  leaned 
again'  the  wall  opposite  us,  The  held  up  the  lantern,  and  for 
a  full  minute  the  only  sound  was  the  wounded  Cross-brander, 
babblin'  out  his  delirium  back  in  the  cave-room. 

Ty  was  a  shade  beefier  'n  the  Friar ;  but  his  skin  was  dull, 
and  the  muscles  did  n't  cut  off  into  the  tendons  so  sharp,  nor 
they  didn't  seem  quite  so  springy  or  well  oiled;  but  there 
was  half  a  dozen  knife  scars  on  his  chest,  and  he  had  come 
up  our  way  from  Mexico. 

They  walked  toward  each  other,  Ty's  eagle  eyes  an'  wolf- 
grin  tryin'  to  beat  down  the  grim  set  to  the  Friar's  face. 
They  both  crouched  over  an'  circled  about  each  other  like 
a  pair  o'  big  cats.  Ty  made  a  few  lunges,  but  the  Friar  par- 
ried 'em  as  simple  as  though  it  was  a  game,  and  purty  soon 
Ty  was  forced  to  slip  his  knife  to  his  right  hand  with  the 
blade  pointin'  up  for  a  rip.  When  he  did  this,  the  Friar 
smiled,  turned  his  own  knife  the  same  way ;  and  I  recalled 
the  Friar  havin'  told  me  about  learnin'  knife  tricks  from  an 
I-talian  he  had  helped  back  East. 

I  don't  like  knife  fightin',  and  I  don't  approve  of  it;  but 
I  will  say  'at  this  fight  was  the  cleanest,  quickest  thing  I  ever 
saw.  The  Friar  was  the  best  man,  but  Ty  was  the  best 
posted;  and  time  and  again  the  Friar  saved  himself  by 
foot  work.  The  follered  'em  close  with  his  lantern,  while 
Olaf  and  I  kept  a  half  watch  on  the  two  opposite  us. 

They  kept  movin'  faster  and  faster  and  the'  was  a  con- 
tinuous spattin'  as  they  parried  with  their  left  hands.  Finally 
the  Friar  grabbed  Ty  by  the  wrist,  Ty  grabbed  the  Friar's 
wrist  at  the  same  time,  lowered  his  head,  and  butted  the  Friar 
in  the  pit  o'  the  stomach.  It  looked  bad ;  but  the  Friar  had 


HAND    TO    HAND  407 

raised  his  knee  and  caught  Ty  on  the  chin;  so  they  stag- 
gered apart  and  breathed  deep  for  a  minute,  before  beginnin' 
again. 

The  grin  had  left  Ty's  face,  and  it  had  settled  into  black 
hate.  When  they  began  again,  the  Friar  seized  Ty's  wrist 
every  chance  he  got,  twistin'  it,  bendin'  the  arm,  and  tryin' 
to  thrust  with  his  knife;  but  Ty  was  tough  and  wiry,  and 
managed  to  twist  out  every  time.  At  last  the  Friar  caught 
Ty's  right  wrist,  dropped  his  own  knife,  ran  his  head  under 
Ty's  right  arm,  caught  the  slack  of  his  right  pant  leg,  gave 
a  heave  and  threw  him  over  his  head.  It  was  a  clean  throw 
and  the  Friar  stooped,  picked  up  his  knife  and  started  for 
Ty  before  he  had  time  to  get  to  his  feet.  Ty  rolled  to  his 
feet  and  dodged  away  as  though  to  run,  whirled,  took  the 
blade  of  his  knife  between  thumb  and  forefinger,  and  spun 
it  through  the  air.  It  struck  the  Friar's  collarbone,  cut  a 
gash  through  his  shoulder,  and  twanged  again'  the  wall  o' 
the  tunnel. 

The  two  men  eyed  each  other  for  a  moment,  the  calm  of 
victory  in  the  Friar's  eyes,  the  red  of  baffled  hate  in  Ty's. 
They  were  about  eight  feet  apart.  "  Will  you  give  up  ?  " 
asked  the  Friar. 

"  No,"  sez  Ty.  He  doubled  up  his  fists  as  though  to 
spring,  then  whirled  and  stepped  into  the  offset  behind  him. 
In  a  moment,  he  came  out  with  a  gun  in  his  hand. 

As  soon  as  he  had  said  no,  Pepper  Kendal  an'  the  Chink 
had  made  a  dive  for  the  offset,  and  Olaf  and  I  had  made  a 
dive  for  them.  I  got  Pepper  who  was  old  and  stiff,  and  I 
managed  to  hit  him  in  the  center  o'  the  forehead  just  as 
Ty  came  out  with  his  gun.  Olaf  was  havin'  trouble  with 
the  Chink,  and  I  picked  up  a  gun  and  tapped  Pepper  on  the 
head  with  it,  and  then  turned  to  knock  the  Chink.  Just  as  I 


4o8  FRIAR    TU.CK 

turned,  I  saw  the  woman  walkin'  slowly  down  the  tunnel 
behind  the  Friar,  and  I  saw  Ty  bend  his  gun  on  him.  Even 
then  he  had  to  pause  a  moment  to  enjoy  his  deviltry,  and  I 
still  see  that  picture  in  my  dreams  —  the  Friar  standin'  silent 
and  proud,  with  his  head  thrown  back  and  his  level  eyes  full 
on  Ty,  while  back  of  him  stood  the  woman  as  unconcerned 
as  a  snow-bird.  About  six  feet  beyond  'em  stood  Promotheus 
holdin'  the  light  above  his  head,  while  his  face  seemed 
frozen  with  horror. 

For  an  instant  they  stood  like  stone  images.  Then  The 
lunged  forward  and  caught  Ty's  arm,  the  lantern  went  out, 
I  heard  one  clear  report,  and  one  muffled  one,  and  then  I 
started  for  'em.  I  bumped  into  a  heavy  form,  two  naked 
arms  went  around  me  in  a  bear-grip,  and  we  rolled  to  the 
floor.  The  candle  in  our  offset  had  burned  out ;  but  I  knew 
it  was  the  Friar,  'cause  his  was  the  only  smooth  face  among 
us.  "  This  is  Happy,"  I  muttered,  and  we  rose  to  our  feet. 

A  struggle  was  goin'  on  beyond  us,  and  I  thought  it  was 
Olaf  and  the  Chink ;  so  I  lit  a  match,  knowin'  that  Ty  would 
'a'  had  plenty  o'  time  to  get  away  already.  As  the  match 
burned  up,  I  saw  the  Chink  lyin'  stretched  out,  and  Olaf  and 
Ty  locked  together.  Olaf  had  his  leg  wrapped  around  Ty's, 
and  was  bendin'  his  back.  Ty's  eyes  were  stickin'  out  white 
an'  gruesome,  and  he  was  gurglin'  in  the  throat.  Suddenly, 
somethin'  cracked  and  they  both  fell  to  the  floor  o'  the 
tunnel  just  as  the  match  went  out. 

I  heard  hard  breathin',  and  then  Olaf's  harsh  voice  came 
out  o'  the  darkness.  "  Well,"  he  said,  "  I  guess  that  squares 
things." 

"  What 's  happened,  what 's  happened  ?  "  asked  a  panting 
voice,  and  then  I  knew  'at  Horace  had  n't  been  able  to  stand 
it  any  longer,  and  had  come  in,  game  wing  and  all. 


HAND    TO    HAND  409 

"  We  've  settled  up  with  Ty  Jones  —  that 's  what 's  hap- 
pened," said  Olaf ;  and  as  we  stood  there  in  the  gloom,  the 
drip  o'  the  dawn  came  rollin'  cold  and  gray  down  the  slant 
o'  the  tunnel;  and  I  shuddered  and  turned  away  to  find 
somethin'  for  my  hands  to  do. 


CHAPTER   FORTY-THREE 

THE   GIFT   OF   THE  DAWN 

THE  first  thing  I  did  was  to  light  the  lantern,  for  the  day- 
light which  came  down  there  was  too  much  in  keepin'  with 
the  conditions  to  suit  me.  Promotheus  was  doubled  up  an' 
holdin'  his  side;  so  the  first  thing  I  did  was  to  ask  him  if 
he  was  bad  hurt.  The'  was  a  smile  on  his  lips,  a  regular 
satisfied,  self -composed  smile,  but  I  did  n't  just  like  the  look 
in  his  eyes. 

"  Nope,  I  don't  ache  at  all,  Happy,"  he  said  in  a  firm  voice ; 
"  but  I  can't  move  much.  Tend  to  the  others  first." 

It  seems  'at  Ty's  first  shot  had  hit  the  woman  in  the  head, 
and  his  next  had  got  The  in  the  side  —  but  The  had  man- 
aged to  get  the  gun  away  from  him,  which  is  why  the  rest 
of  us  were  spared. 

The  Friar  had  carried  the  woman  into  our  offset,  and 
was  rubbin'  her  wrists  and  workin'  over  her,  though  the' 
did  n't  appear  to  be  much  use.  She  was  still  alive ;  but  that 
was  just  all,  so  I  left  them  and  examined  the  rest.  Ty  was 
all  twisted  out  o'  shape,  and  lay  with  his  eyes  open,  glassy 
an'  stary  and  horrible.  Olaf  had  n't  had  time  to  quite  finish 
the  Chink,  and  he  was  crawlin'  down  the  tunnel  when  I 
nabbed  him.  Then  Horace  took  the  lantern  while  Olaf  and 
I  hog-tied  Pepper  Kendal  and  the  Chink. 

We  next  examined  the  cave-room  where  Ty  had  made  his 
last  stand.  It  was  fair-sized  an'  well  stocked,  and  also  had 
half  a  dozen  extra  guns  in  it.  When  I  saw  these  fresh  guns, 


THE    GIFT    OF    THE    DAWN         411 

I  gave  a  low  whistle  to  think  what  a  lot  o'  suckers  we  'd  been 
to  discard  our  own  trumps  and  set  in  a  game  against  a 
marked  deck ;  but  as  the  Friar  allus  said :  "  Wrong  feeds 
on  death  and  Right  feeds  on  life ;  so  the'  can't  be  no  doubt 
as  to  the  final  result,  even  though  things  do  look  blue 
sometimes." 

There  was  a  fine  spring  in  the  corner  o'  this  room  —  the 
same  spring  which  afterwards  came  out  near  the  mouth  of 
the  ravine  and  was  piped  into  the  old  cabin.  The  wounded 
Cross-brander  was  still  babblin',  so  we  fed  him  some  water 
and  eased  him  around  a  little. 

Next  we  went  outside  and  nailed  some  pieces  to  a  couple 
o'  light  poles,  and  we  were  mighty  glad  to  have  enough  left 
to  man  this  vehicle  when  it  was  finished,  for  we  were  all 
purt  nigh  used  up,  Tillte,  the  two  Simpson  boys,  and  myself 
carried  the  litter,  while  Horace  ran  the  illumination,  and 
Olaf  tended  to  Pepper  and  the  Chink. 

We  took  'em  all  out,  even  to  the  dead ;  and  the  one  at  the 
foot  of  the  stairs  turned  out  to  be  the  boy,  just  as  I  'd 
thought.  Next  to  the  woman,  with  the  Friar  walkin'  beside 
her  his  head  on  his  breast,  this  trip  with  the  boy  cut  me 
worse  'n  any.  Prometheus  got  off  three  average  good  jokes 
while  we  were  packin'  him  out,  and  cheered  us  up  a  lot; 
but  we  put  Ty  Jones  down  with  the  dead.  As  we  straight- 
ened him  out  he  gave  a  groan  which  made  us  all  jump. 
The  whole  thing  had  become  a  nightmare,  and  we  staggered 
about  like  the  ingredients  of  a  dream. 

The  woman's  head  was  shattered  on  top  an'  the'  wasn't 
any  hope  for  her;  but  still,  it  gave  the  Friar  comfort  to 
work  over  her,  so  we  acted  as  though  we  thought  she  had 
a  chance.  The  nearest  doctor  was  at  Meltner's  stage  sta- 
tion, a  full  day's  ride.  Tillte  went  after  him,  while  Dan 


4i2  FRIAR    TUCK 

Simpson  rode  over  to  his  father's  to  break  the  news  and 
bring  back  Kit.  What  with  the  prisoners  still  on  our  hands, 
the  dead  to  bury,  and  the  wounded  to  wait  on,  we  were  in 
chin-deep ;  and  the  worst  of  it  was,  'at  we  did  n't  want  the 
news  to  get  out.  We  had  tried  to  settle  things  without 
botherin'  the  law,  and  we  preferred  to  finish  that  way  if 
possible. 

We  buried  the  four  Cross-branders  across  the  crick  and 
down  stream  from  the  lower  ford,  and  we  buried  Tim 
Simpson  just  a  little  way  above  the  upper  ford.  The  Friar 
went  along  and  helped  dig  the  graves  and  carry  them  to 
it ;  but  he  did  n't  preach  nor  sing,  and  his  face  was  drawn 
with  sorrow. 

By  evenin'  we  had  got  things  to  some  system.  Spider, 
Tank,  Slim,  and  Horace  were  able  to  help  quite  a  little; 
but  Oscar,  Tom  Simpson,  and  Promotheus  were  in  bad 
shape;  while  we  had  seven  prisoners,  countin'  the  Chink, 
and  seven  wounded  enemies  to  look  after.  The  feller  Horace 
had  shot,  up  on  top,  got  out  o'  the  country,  I  reckon.  Any- 
way they  left  him  above  with  the  horses,  and  we  never  heard 
of  him  again. 

Ol'  man  Simpson,  Kit,  and  the  boy  arrived  durin'  the 
moonlight,  and  we  were  all  mighty  glad  to  see  Kit,  though 
we  hated  to  face  the  old  man.  Still,  he  was  game,  and  took 
it  mighty  well.  Tillte  had  got  a  fresh  hoss  at  Meltner's 
and  had  started  right  back  with  the  doctor ;  so  they  arrived 
a  little  after  seven  next  mornin'.  The  doctor  was  purty 
young  lookin'  to  me;  but  he  had  a  bagful  o'  shiny  instru- 
ments, and  he  made  himself  at  home  without  any  fuss.  He 
had  been  in  a  Colorado  hospital  for  two  years,  a  minin' 
hospital,  and  he  was  as  familiar  with  a  feller's  insides,  as  a 
pony  is  with  the  range  he  was  foaled  on.  He  had  took  a 


THE    GIFT    OF    THE    DAWN         413 

claim  near  Meltner's,  and  was  able  to  talk  a  long  time  on 
why  it  was  better  for  a  young  doctor  to  come  west. 

He  praised  the  Friar's  work  to  the  skies  —  and  then 
turned  in  and  did  it  all  over  to  suit  himself.  He  said  that 
all  the  wounded  stood  a  good  show  except  the  woman, 
Promotheus,  and  Ty  Jones.  We  none  of  us  thought  'at  The 
was  in  much  danger;  but  the  doctor  shook  his  head.  Ty's 
spinal  column  had  been  un jointed  near  the  base,  and  he  was 
paralyzed  from  the  hips  down;  but  in  all  that  skirmishin', 
he  was  th«  only  one  who  had  n't  lost  a  drop  o'  blood.  The 
Friar,  himself,  had  two  flesh-wounds  beside  the  one  Ty  had 
give  him. 

I  was  with  the  doctor  when  he  started  to  work  on  the 
woman's  head ;  but  I  could  n't  stand  it.  I  'm  not  overly 
squeamish ;  but  I  own  up  I  could  n't  stand  this ;  so  I  backed 
out,  leavin'  the  Friar  with  his  face  like  chalk,  to  hand  in- 
struments while  little  old  Kit  held  a  basin.  I  hated  to  leave 
'em;  but  I  didn't  take  a  full  breath  until  I  was  beside 
Promotheus  again. 

His  voice  had  got  weaker,  but  the  smile  never  left  his 
lips,  and  it  was  restful  just  to  sit  and  watch  him.  Horace 
hovered  over  him  like  a  young  hen,  and  The  drank  so  much 
water,  simply  to  please  Horace,  that  I  feared  his  bones 
would  dissolve.  Horace  had  told  the  doctor  he  would  pay 
all  the  bills,  and  to  go  the  full  limit  and  not  try  to  economize 
none  on  his  patch-work.  We  put  the  seven  prisoners  in 
the  workshop,  and  slept  in  tarps  around  the  door,  which  was 
fastened  with  a  chain,  so  'at  if  they  got  it  open,  a  board 
would  fall  on  these  sleepin'  next,  and  wake  'em. 

The  Friar  was  all  for  notifyin'  the  authorities;  but  old 
man  Simpson  had  been  a  notorious  public,  or  some  such 
official,  back  in  Vermont  and  naturally  he  was  up  on  all 


4i4  FRIAR    TUCK 

the  twists  and  windin's  of  the  law.  He  said  it  would  take 
the  Su-preme  Court  itself  fifteen  years  to  sift  out  the 
actual  legalities  of  our  tangle ;  and  even  then  he  was  n't 
sure  which  side  would  get  the  worst  of  it,  so  he  advised 
us  to  just  work  it  out  on  our  own  hook,  which  we  had  de- 
cided to  do  anyway. 

For  three  days,  the  woman  lay  in  a  stupor.  Kit  had  told 
me  that  her  skull  had  n't  been  actually  shattered  —  that  she 
had  been  shot  in  just  about  the  same  way  that  Olaf  had, 
but  that  Nature  had  counted  on  Olaf  gettin'  into  some  such 
a  fix,  and  had  provided  for  it  by  givin'  him  a  flint  skull, 
while  the  woman's  skull  was  n't  of  much  use  except  in  times 
of  peace.  Kit  said  the  doctor  had  taken  out  a  few  splinters 
of  bone,  and  had  fastened  up  the  openin',  but  had  said  the' 
was  n't  any  show  for  her. 

On  the  other  hand,  Olaf  had  looked  at  her  careful,  and 
had  said  that  all  the  vital  part  of  her  was  workin'  on  just 
this  point.  He  said  that  the  light  about  her  body  was  the 
blue  o'  weakness;  but  that  just  at  this  point,  the'  was  a  con- 
stant bulgin'  out  o'  different  colors  in  a  way  he  had  never 
before  seen.  The  doctor  heaved  up  his  eyebrows  at  Olaf  s 
verdict,  and  looked  as  though  he  thought  perhaps  Olaf's 
brain  had  been  shifted  a  little  out  o'  line,  in  spite  of  his 
flint  skull. 

On  the  third  night  I  was  what  the  doctor  called  his 
orderly,  and  went  on  duty  at  midnight.  I  was  sittin'  out  on 
the  porch  of  the  old  cabin  when  the  Friar  came  out  holdin' 
his  hand  across  his  eyes.  We  had  moved  the  wounded  men 
over  to  the  bunk-shack,  and  the  woman  was  in  Ty's  bedroom. 
I  did  n't  speak  to  him,  and  he  stood  leanin'  against  one  o'  the 
posts  for  some  time  without  seein'  me. 

He  trembled  all  over,   and  his  breath  came  quick  and 


THE    GIFT    OF    THE    DAWN         415 

catchy.  Finally  he  looked  up  at  the  stars  and  said  in  a  low 
tone,  as  though  speakin'  personal  to  some  one  near  at  hand : 
"  Save  me,  oh  God,  from  mockery !  I  have  spoken  for  others 
in  my  vanity;  and  now  that  my  own  hour  has  come,  oh 
save  me  from  the  rebellion  of  my  flesh ;  and  give  me  grace 
to  say  in  my  heart,  Thy  will  be  done." 

As  he  stood  with  his  face  upraised,  the  late  moon  crept 
out  and  shone  full  upon  it,  and  the  agony  in  it  struck  me  like 
a  blow ;  but  even  as  I  looked,  the  change  came.  Before 
my  very  eyes,  I  saw  the  sign  of  peace  made  upon  the  Friar's 
brow.  A  moment  before  and  it  had  been  torn  into  wrinkles 
and  covered  with  beads  of  sweat;  but  now  it  was  smooth 
and  calm.  He  clasped  his  hands  across  his  breast,  closed  his 
eyes,  and  the'  came  a  smile  to  his  lips  which  drew  a  mist 
to  my  own  eyes.  I  can't  be  absolutely  certain  of  it,  because 
o'  this  blur  in  my  eyes ;  but  I  think,  I  actually  and  honestly 
do  think,  that  I  saw  white  forms  hoverin'  in  the  moonlight 
above  him. 

He  drew  a  full  breath  and  turned  to  go  in,  but  saw  me 
settin'  with  my  back  again'  the  wall  o'  the  cabin,  and  came 
over  and  put  a  hand  on  my  shoulder.  I  could  n't  say  any- 
thing. I  wanted  to  say  somethin'  to  comfort  him;  but  I 
couldn't  speak  a  word,  until  he  asked  me  how  the  others 
were  gettin'  along.  I  told  him  they  were  all  doin'  fine,  and 
that  even  Ty  had  been  restin'  well.  He  turned  to  go  in, 
and  then  I  found  the  nerve  to  ask  him  how  things  were 
inside. 

"  It  is  all  over,  Happy,"  sez  he,  without  even  a  catch  in 
his  voice.  "  Just  before  I  came  out  here,  the  doctor  said  the 
pulse  had  stopped." 

He  caught  his  breath  with  a  little  gasp  at  this;  but  that 
was  all.  "  What  did  Olaf  say  ?  "  I  asked. 


416  FRIAR    TUCK 

"  Olaf  says  that  she  still  lives,"  he  answered;  "  but  I  fear 
that  Olaf  is  not  to  be  relied  upon  this  time.  He  has  a  strange 
gift;  but  he  does  not  understand  it  himself,  and  while  I 
know  he  would  not  deceive  me,  I  feel  that  the  doctor  must 
know  best." 

"  Well,  I  '11  not  give  up  until  Olaf  does !  "  I  blurted. 

He  smiled  again  and  put  his  hand  back  on  my  shoulder. 
"  Come  in  and  look  at  her,"  he  said,  "  she  is  very  beautiful. 
The  strange  mask  has  fallen  from  her  face,  and  she  is  once 
more  as  she  was  in  those  old,  happy  days  when  we  walked 
together  through  our  own  Garden  of  Eden.  Come  in,  I 
want  you  to  see  her." 

I  went  in  with  him,  though  I  didn't  want  to.  I  knew 
what  love  did  to  a  man,  and  that  I  had  n't  seen  the  same 
woman  he  had;  but  the'  was  another  face  allus  before  my 
eyes,  and  no  one  else  was  beautiful  to  me.  I  did  n't  want 
to  do  any  pertendin'  to  the  Friar,  even  at  such  a  time  as 
this. 

I  f ollered  him  inside,  f eelin'  out  o'  place  and  embarassed ; 
but  when  I  looked  down  at  the  quiet  face  in  the  bed,  I  was 
glad  I  had  come.  She  did  n't  look  like  the  same  woman, 
not  at  all.  All  the  weary,  puzzled  expression  had  left  her 
face,  and  in  spite  of  its  whiteness,  it  looked  like  the  face  of 
a  girl.  I  looked  at  her  a  long  time  and  the  thought  that 
came  to  me  over  and  over  was,  what  a  shame  she  could  n't 
have  had  just  a  few  words  with  the  Friar  before  she  was 
called  on;  just  a  few  words,  now  that  her  right  mind  was 
back. 

After  a  time  I  looked  up.  Kit  sat  near  the  head  of  the 
bed,  leanin'  over  and  holdin'  a  handkerchief  to  her  eyes, 
Olaf  sat  near  her,  a  strange,  grim  set  to  his  lips.  His  head 
was  bandaged  and  he  looked  less  like  a  human  than  usual, 


THE     GIFT     OF    THE    DAWN         417 

as  he  kept  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  white  face  o'  the  woman. 
The'  was  a  lamp  on  the  stand  and  I  could  see  his  eyes. 
Blue  they  were,  deep  blue,  like  the  flowers  on  the  benches 
in  June,  and  they  did  n't  move ;  but  kept  a  steady  gaze 
upon  the  white,  still  face.  The  doctor  sat  in  a  corner,  his 
eyes  on  the  floor.  At  first  I  thought  he  was  asleep,  and 
goodness  knows,  he  was  entitled  to  it ;  but  just  as  I  looked 
at  him  he  rubbed  his  fingers  together  a  moment  and  stood  up. 

He  walked  over  and  put  his  hand  on  the  Friar's  shoulder. 
"  You  might  as  well  all  go  to  sleep,  now,"  he  said,  gently. 
"  There  is  nothing  more  to  do." 

"  Are  you  positive  ?  "  asked  the  Friar. 

"  Positive,"  said  the  doctor.  "  There  is  no  heart  action, 
and  when  I  held  a  mirror  to  her  lips  no  vapor  was  formed." 

"  She  is  still  alive,"  said  the  deep  voice  of  Olaf,  and  we 
all  gave  a  little  start. 

The  doctor  took  a  silver  quarter  and  held  it  to  the  woman's 
nose  for  a  minute,  and  then  looked  at  it.  A  puzzled  look 
came  to  his  face,  and  he  went  back  and  sat  down  in  the 
corner  again. 

"  Was  it  discolored  ?  "  asked  the  Friar. 

"  No,"  sez  the  doctor  slowly ;  "  but  I  am  sure  there  is  no 
life  remaining.  I  have  seen  several  cases  of  suspended 
anomation,  but  nothin'  like  this." 

"  She  lives,  and  the  light  is  getting  stronger,"  said  Olaf. 

Kit  took  the  handkerchief  from  her  eyes  which  were  still 
full  o'  tears.  She  wiped  them  away,  and  looked  first  at  the 
woman  and  then  at  Olaf,  and  then  she  gave  a  sigh.  The 
Friar's  hands  were  opening  and  shutting.  He  had  fought 
his  fight  out,  on  the  porch ;  but  the  suspense  was  beginnin' 
to  undermine  him  again. 

I  went  back  to  the  porch  and  stayed  a  while.     When  I 


418  FRIAR    TUCK 

went  in  again,  they  were  all  as  I  had  left  them;  and  after 
a  few  minutes  I  made  my  rounds,  found  everything  all  right, 
and  came  back.  I  went  into  the  room  several  times,  and 
just  as  I  caught  the  first  whiff  o'  the  dawn  breeze,  I  went 
in  once  more,  determined  to  coax  the  Friar  to  lie  down  and 
try  to  sleep. 

They  were  still  in  the  same  positions.  Not  a  line  had 
changed  in  the  woman's  face,  the  Friar  was  almost  as  white 
as  she  was  but  still  stood  at  the  foot  o'  the  bed  lookin'  down 
at  her;  while  the  wrinkles  on  Olaf's  set  face  seemed  carved 
in  stone. 

I  had  just  put  my  hand  on  the  Friar's  arm  to  get  his  at- 
tention when  Olaf  rose  to  his  feet,  pressed  his  hand  to  his 
blinkin'  eyes,  and  said  wearily :  "  The  blue  color  is  givin' 
way  to  pink.  She  will  get  well." 

"  Don't  say  it  unless  you  're  sure !  "  cried  the  Friar,  his 
voice  like  a  sob. 

For  answer  Olaf  pointed  down  at  the  woman's  face.  A 
faint  color  stole  into  her  cheeks,  and  as  we  looked  her  eyes 
opened.  The  first  thing  they  rested  upon  was  the  Friar's 
face  bent  above  her,  and  her  lips  parted  in  a  wonderin' 
smile  —  a  smile  which  lighted  her  face  like  the  mornin'  sun 
on  ol'  Mount  Savage,  and  made  her  beautiful,  to  me  an'  to 
all  who  Ve  ever  seen  her. 

"  Is  it  you  ?  "  she  whispered.    "  Is  it  really  you  ?  " 

A  warm,  rosy  beam  of  sunshine  slipped  in  through  the 
window  and  fell  across  the  bed,  and  the  rest  of  us  tiptoed 
out,  leavin'  the  Friar  alone  with  the  gift  of  life  which  the 
Dawn  had  brought  back  to  him. 


CHAPTER   FORTY-FOUR 

TY   JONES   NODS    HIS    HEAD 

IT  was  a  week  after  this  before  Olaf  could  see  properly 
again.  The  doctor  was  wild  to  take  Olaf  back  East  and  hold 
doin's  with  him ;  but  Olaf  would  n't  listen  to  it.  He  hated 
to  have  people  take  him  for  a  freak,  and  said  it  was  n't  any 
fault  of  his  that  he  saw  the  way  he  did.  The  doctor  said  'at 
what  Olaf  saw  was  called  the  aurora;  he  said  that  science 
had  been  tryin'  to  locate  it,  but  had  n't  found  any  way  to  do 
it,  and  that  it  was  some  sort  o'  rays  shootin'  out  from  this 
which  had  put  the  inflammation  into  Olaf's  eyes. 

Olaf  had  had  one  of  his  teeth  filled  when  he  was  young, 
and  ever  since  that  he'd  been  suspicious  o'  science;  so  he 
just  clouded  up  his  face  when  they  tried  to  devil  him  into 
bein'  an  experiment,  and  they  couldn't  do  anything  with 
him.  The  Friar  might  have  been  able  to,  but  the  Friar 
would  have  sent  his  own  eyes  East  by  freight  before  he  'd 
have  asked  Olaf  to  do  a  single  thing  he  did  n't  want  to  do. 
The  ignorant  allus  scoff  at  the  idee  of  Olaf  seein'  the  soul- 
flame;  but  the  edicated  allus  take  a  serious  interest  which 
seems  mighty  funny  —  don't  it  ? 

From  the  very  moment  Janet  opened  her  eyes  and  smiled 
up  at  the  Friar  that  mornin'  she  continued  to  improve.  The 
doctor  listened  to  all  that  was  told  him  about  her  havin' 
pains  in  the  top  of  her  head  and  not  bein'  right  intellectu- 
ally, and  he  said  she  must  have  had  a  blow  there  at  some 
former  time  which  had  probably  formed  a  tumor  on  the 


420  FRIAR    TUCK 

brain  or  knocked  off  a  few  splinters  of  bone  into  it,  and  that 
in  removin'  the  pressure,  she  had  been  put  into  perfect  order 
again. 

She  had  the  smoothest  voice  I  had  ever  heard,  and  I  just 
doted  on  hearin'  her  speak  the  Friar's  name,  John  Car- 
michael.  I  had  a  legal  right  to  use  the  name  John,  myself; 
but  it  allus  had  the  feel  of  a  stiff  collar  to  me,  so  I  was  glad 
enough  to  have  it  forgotten.  But  when  Janet  spoke  the 
words  John  Carmichael,  why,  it  cleared  up  the  atmosphere 
and  started  a  little  breeze.  She  did  n't  recall  how  she  had 
come  to  Cross  Crick,  nor  anything  much  which  had  hap- 
pened to  her  since  the  night  in  Berlin.  She  said  she  had  took 
singin'  lessons  in  a  place  called  Italy,  and  had  expected  to 
reach  grand  opery. 

She  had  sung  for  pay  whenever  she  got  a  chance,  in  order 
to  get  money  enough  to  go  on  with  her  studies,  and  was 
gettin'  what  I  'd  call  mighty  lucrative  wages  at  the  Winter 
Garden;  but  was  all  the  time  bothered  by  a  lot  o'  foreign 
dudes  who  had  the  desire  to  make  love,  but  not  the  capacity. 
She  said  her  manager  had  introduced  an  Austrian  count  for 
advertizin'  purposes,  and  she  had  finally  consented  to  eat 
a  meal  with  him;  but  had  been  taken  sick  and  had  fallen. 
This  was  when  she  had  bumped  her  head  and  she  never  got 
clear  in  it  again  until  that  morning  when  she  had  hovered 
between  goin'  out  with  the  night  or  comin'  back  with  the 
dawn. 

She  said  she  had  a  hazy,  dreamlike  remembrance  of  havin' 
tried  all  kinds  o'  work  after  this ;  but  could  n't  tell  the  real 
from  the  unreal ;  and  she  did  n't  have  any  recollection  of 
how  she  had  come  to  the  ranch.  We  never  mentioned  Ty 
Jones  to  her  for  she  was  comin'  along  like  a  colt  on  grass, 
and  we  did  n't  want  to  risk  any  set-back.  She  said  she  still 


TY    JONES     NODS     HIS    HEAD      421 

had  it  on  her  mind  that  she  had  lost  something  precious; 
but  she  could  n't  make  out  what  it  could  have  been,  and  the 
Friar  allus  told  her  not  to  worry,  but  to  just  rest  herself 
back  to  complete  strength. 

Oscar  and  Tom  Simpson  had  turned  the  corner,  and  it 
was  only  a  question  of  time  when  they  'd  be  all  right  again 
—  which  was  true  o,f  all  the  others  except  Ty  and  Promo- 
theus.  Ty  would  n't  speak  to  us  at  all,  though  he  did  n't 
seem  to  suffer  to  amount  to  anything.  The  doctor  said  he 
might  live  for  years,  or  he  might  slip  away  at  a  moment's 
notice;  but  either  way,  he  was  doomed  to  be  paralyzed  for 
the  rest  of  his  life ;  while  the'  was  n't  any  hope  for  Promo- 
theus  at  all. 

He  had  been  shot  through  the  liver,  which  pleased  him  a 
lot  as  bein'  so  in  keepin'  with  his  name ;  but  we  could  n't 
see  why  a  feller  who  had  survived  bein'  shot  in  so  many 
other  places,  should  have  to  give  in  on  account  of  an  extra 
hole  in  his  liver.  Horace  divided  his  time  between  waitin' 
on  The  and  spurrin'  up  the  doctor  to  try  some  new  treatment. 
He  read  aloud  to  The  out  o'  Ty's  books,  and  he  seemed  as 
fond  o'  those  old  Greek  fellers  as  Horace  was  himself.  He 
was  also  mighty  pleased  to  have  the  Friar  read  and  talk  to 
him,  and  it  softened  us  all  a  lot  to  see  how  patient  and  gentle 
Prometheus  had  become.  Humanity  is  about  the  finest  thing 
the'  is  about  a  human;  and  all  humans  have  a  showin' 
growth  of  it,  if  ya  can  just  scratch  the  weeds  away  and  give 
it  a  chance. 

The  prisoners  bothered  us  a  heap ;  we  feared  they  might 
have  some  leanin's  toward  revenge ;  so  we  did  n't  dare  turn 
'em  loose  until  they  showed  some  decided  symptoms  of 
repentance.  Finally  we  got  to  bringin'  'em  up  two  at  a  time 
to  talk  with  The.  At  first  it  did  n't  do  any  good,  as  Ty  sat 


422  FRIAR    TUCK 

propped  up  in  a  bunk,  grinnin'  scornful,  while  The  lay  flat 
on  his  back  lookin'  mighty  weak  and  wan ;  but  after  several 
trials  at  it,  they  seemed  to  pay  more  heed  to  what  The  told 
'em.  We  figured  that  Ty  must  have  ten  or  a  dozen  men  still 
out  on  the  range  somewhere;  but  they  never  showed  up. 

In  about  two  weeks,  or  it  might  'a'  been  three,  all  the 
wounded  were  able  to  walk  about  except  Promotheus,  Ty 
Jones,  and  Oscar.  Oscar  was  doin'  fine;  but  the  noise  of 
the  other  men  bothered  The  a  little  at  night,  though  he 
denied  it  up  and  down.  Still,  we  thought  best  to  move  him 
and  Ty  to  a  couple  o'  cots  at  the  east  end  of  the  mess-hall, 
which  was  large  and  airy,  with  a  big  fireplace  for  cool 
nights.  By  this  time  Janet  was  able  to  take  short  walks, 
leanin'  on  the  Friar's  arm ;  but  the  Friar  had  n't  come  any 
closer  to  findin'  out  what  it  was  she  had  lost,  nor  whether 
or  not  she  was  Ty's  wife.  The  only  reply  Ty  ever  made  to 
questions,  was  to  skin  back  his  lips  in  a  wolf-grin. 

The  used  to  lay  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  Ty's  face  and  a 
look  of  hopeless  sadness  in  his  own.  When  we  'd  come  and 
talk  to  him,  his  face  would  light  up ;  but  as  soon  as  we  left 
him,  he  would  look  at  Ty  again  with  a  sorrow  that  fair 
wrung  a  feller's  heart.  I  wanted  to  separate  'em ;  but  when 
I  suggested  this  to  The,  he  shook  his  head.  "  Nope,"  he 
said,  "  he  may  speak  to  me  before  the  vultures  finish  with 
my  liver;  and  if  ever  the  mood  crosses  his  mind  for  a  sec- 
ond, I  want  to  be  so  handy  'at  he  won't  have  time  to  change 
his  mind." 

I  told  The  'at  what  was  worryin'  the  Friar  most  was  that 
all  the  fightin'  had  been  on  his  account ;  but  that  next  to  this, 
it  was  because  he  did  n't  know  whether  or  not  Ty  was  mar- 
ried to  Janet. 

That  evenin'  just  when  the  thinky  time  o'  twilight  came 


TY    JONES     NODS     HIS    HEAD      423 

along,  I  was  settin'  by  the  fire  in  the  mess-hall,  where  I  could 
see  Ty,  and  his  face  did  n't  have  quite  so  much  the  eagle 
look  to  it  as  common.  The's  eyes  rested  on  Ty's  face  most 
o'  the  time,  and  he,  too,  noticed  it  bein'  a  little  less  fierce 
than  usual. 

"  Ty,"  he  said  in  a  low  tone,  "  I  was  drove  into  turnin' 
again'  ya.  Not  by  force,  ya  understand,  nor  by  fear;  but 
by  something  which  has  crept  into  me  durin'  the  last  few 
years,  and  which  I  can't  understand,  myself.  Horace  and 
the  Friar  have  been  mighty  good  to  me  —  they  saved  my 
life,  ya  know,  after  I  had  forfeited  it  by  raidin'  'em  durin' 
the  night.  I  told  'em  I  would  n't  be  a  spy  on  you  about  any- 
thing else  except  the  woman.  You  haven't  much  excuse 
to  bear  me  any  ill  will,  seein'  as  it  was  your  own  hand  which 
shot  the  move-on  order  into  me.  I  'm  goin'  to  slip  out 
yonder  before  long ;  but  the's  no  knowin'  how  long  you  '11 
have  to  sit  penned  up  in  a  chair." 

The's  voice  gave  out  here,  and  he  stopped  a  few  minutes 
to  cough.  Ty's  face  had  n't  changed,  and  his  eyes  looked 
out  through  the  south  window  to  where  the  western  sky 
was  still  lighted  into  glory  by  the  rays  o'  the  sun,  which  had 
already  sunk. 

"  I  've  been  locked  up  in  a  stone  prison,  Ty,"  said  Pro- 
motheus  as  soon  as  he  had  quieted  down  again ;  "  and  I 
want  to  tell  you  that  the  minutes  drag  over  ya  like  a  spike- 
tooth  harrow,  when  you  have  n't  nothin'  to  look  at  but  four 
gray  walls  and  the  pictures  on  your  memory.  A  feller  feeds 
himself  on  bitter  recollections  in  order  to  keep  his  hate  lusty ; 
but  all  this  pilin'  up  o'  hate  is  just  one  parchin'  hot  day 
after  another  —  like  we  've  had  this  summer.  Everything 
green  and  pleasant  in  a  feller's  nature  is  burned  down  to  the 
roots,  and  in  tryin'  to  hate  all  the  world,  he  ends  by  hatin' 


424  FRIAR    TUCK 

himself  worst  of  all.  Every  kindly  deed  he  's  done  seems 
like  a  soothin'  shower,  and  counts  a  lot  in  keepin'  him  from 
fallin'  down  below  the  level  o'  snakes  and  coyotes. 

"  I  'm  not  preachin'  at  ya,  I  'm  tellin'  you  just  what  I  know 
to  be  so  from  actual  experience.  I  don't  bear  you  no  ill  will, 
Ty,  whether  you  tell  me  what  I  want  to  know,  or  not ;  but 
you  have  it  in  your  power  to  give  me  more  content  than  airy 
other  man  in  all  the  world.  Are  you  married  to  the  woman, 
Ty?" 

For  a  moment  Ty  did  n't  move,  and  then  his  lips  tightened 
and  he  nodded  his  head.  Promotheus  gave  a  sigh  and  set- 
tled back.  He  stayed  quiet  for  some  time  and  then  said  in 
a  weak  voice :  "  Thank  ya,  Ty.  I  'm  purty  certain  that  at 
such  a  time  as  this,  you  would  n't  deceive  me.  I  'm  sorry 
you  are  married  to  her  —  on  the  Friar's  account,  under- 
stand —  but  I  'm  mightily  obliged  to  you  for  tellin'  me  the 
truth.  The  Friar  is  a  square  man,  and  he  's  a  strong  man. 
He  '11  be  able  to  fight  what  he  has  to  fight ;  but  none  of  us 
can  fight  uncertainty,  without  losin'  our  nerve  in  the  end. 
I  wish  you  would  talk  to  me,  Ty.  I  thought  more  o'  you 
than  of  airy  other  man  I  ever  knew,  except  Horace  and  the 
Friar ;  and  I  wish,  just  for  old  time's  sake,  you  'd  talk  to  me 
a  little  before  I  slip  away.  You  can  talk,  can't  ya  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  can  talk,"  sez  Ty  Jones,  facin'  The  with  a  scowl ; 
"  but  I  have  n't  any  talk  I  want  to  waste  on  traitors.  If  I 
was  to  speak  at  all,  it  would  be  to  ask  'em  to  separate  me 
from  your  sloppy  yappin'.  You  may  think  'at  you  sound  as 
saintly  as  a  white  female  angel  when  you  whine  about  duty 
and  forgiveness  and  such-like  rubbish;  but  the  more  oil 
you  put  on  your  voice,  the  more  I  know  you  to  be  a  sneak, 
a  hypocrite,  and  a  traitor.  I  won't  ask  'em  to  move  me; 
because  I  'm  not  in  the  habit  of  askin'  any  man.  When  I 


TY    JONES    NODS    HIS    HEAD      425 

had  two  legs  to  stand  on,  I  gave  orders.  Now  that  I  can't 
give  orders,  I  don't  speak  at  all ;  but  every  time  you  try  to 
speak  like  a  hen-missionary,  you  can  know  that  I  'm  sayin' 
to  myself  —  sneak,  hypocrite,  traitor !  " 

One  thing  you  '11  have  to  say  about  Ty  Jones,  an'  that  is, 
that  when  he  started  north,  he  did  n't  wobble  off  to  the  east 
or  west  much,  let  what  would  come  in  his  path.  The  only 
reply  The  made  was  to  sigh ;  but  what  I  wanted  to  do,  was 
to  lull  Promotheus  into  a  deep  sleep,  and  then  to  fasten  Ty 
Jones's  neck  to  a  green  bronco,  and  let  them  two  settle  it  out 
between  'em  which  was  the  tougher  beast.  What  I  did  do, 
was  to  steal  out  and  tell  Horace  what  had  been  said,  and  I 
also  told  him  not  to  separate  Ty  and  Promotheus  as  I 
thought  The  would  set  him  an  example  which  might  finally 
soften  him  a  little  and  make  him  more  fit  to  die,  when  the 
time  came  'at  some  quick  tempered  individual  lost  patience 
and  tried  to  knock  a  little  decent  conversation  out  of  him 
with  an  ax. 

Horace,  though,  thought  only  o'  The,  and  he  hurried  in 
and  sat  beside  him.  I  also  went  in  and  took  my  seat  by  the 
fire  again.  Horace  took  The's  hand  in  one  of  his  and  patted 
it  with  the  other.  Horace  did  n't  have  any  upliftin'  words 
to  match  the  Friar's;  but  he  had  some  chirky  little  ways 
which  were  mighty  comfortin'  to  The,  and  when  Horace 
would  be  with  him,  all  the  sadness  would  leave  his  eyes,  and 
he  would  talk  as  free  as  he  thought  —  which,  to  my  mind, 
is  the  final  test  of  genuwine  courage. 

Mighty  few  of  us  can  do  it.  I  know  I  can't.  Time  and 
again,  I  have  had  deep  feelin's  for  some  one  in  trouble ;  but 
when  I  'd  try  to  put  'em  into  words,  the  knees  o'  my  tongue 
would  allus  knock  together,  and  I  'd  growl  out  somethin' 
gruff,  cough,  blow  my  nose,  and  get  into  a  corner  as  soon  as 


426  FRIAR    TUCK 

possible.  The  Friar  was  the  first  man  who  ever  showed  me 
'at  a  feller  could  speak  out  his  softness  without  losin'  any  of 
his  strength,  and  I  have  honestly  tried  to  do  it  myself ;  but 
I  generally  had  to  dilute  it  down  over  half,  and  even  then, 
it  allus  sounded  as  though  I  had  wrote  it  out  and  learned  it 
by  heart. 

The  asked  Horace  to  either  move  him  or  Ty,  said  he  did  n't 
feel  quite  comfortable  beside  Ty,  and  made  out  that  it  was 
his  own  wish ;  but  Horace  vetoed  the  motion,  and  pertended 
to  scold  The  for  not  havin'  a  more  forgivin'  nature.  The 
thought  he  had  been  as  circumspect  as  a  land  agent,  and 
when  his  request  rebounded  back  on  him,  he  found  himself 
without  any  dry  powder. 

He  lay  quiet  for  some  time,  and  then  spoke  in  so  low  a 
tone  I  could  hardly  hear  him.  "  I  can  understand  the  real 
Prometheus  purty  well,  Horace,"  sez  he ;  "  and  I  've  tried 
to  be  as  game  as  he  was;  but  I  can't  quite  understand  the 
One  the  Friar  tells  about.  I  have  thought  of  Him  a  heap 
since  I  Ve  been  laid  up  this  time ;  but  I  don't  believe  I  could 
bring  myself  to  forgive  them  who  had  nailed  me  on  a  cross 
for  doin'  nothin'  but  good  —  I  don't  believe  I  could  do  that. 

"  I  can  feel  things  clearer  now  'n  I  ever  could  before ;  and 
when  I  picture  my  own  self  as  hangin'  from  nails  drove 
through  my  hands  and  feet,  it  just  about  takes  my  breath 
away.  I  've  been  handled  purty  rough  in  my  time,  but  allus 
when  my  blood  was  hot,  and  pain  don't  count  then ;  but  to 
have  nails  drove  —  My  God,  Horace,  that 's  an  awful 
thought !  That 's  an  awful  thought. 

"  Then,  too,  I  don't  feel  that  any  one  has  ill  used  me 
lately.  The  treatment  I  got  in  the  army,  and  in  the  pen,  was 
consid'able  hellish;  but  I  haven't  had  much  chance  to  try 
forgivin'  any  one  for  the  last  few  years.  Horace,  you  can't 


TY    JONES     NODS     HIS    HEAD      427 

imagine  all  the  joy  the  last  part  of  my  life  has  been  to  me. 
I  did  n't  know  what  life  really  was,  until  you  and  the  Friar 
pointed  it  out  to  me.  I  've  been  so  happy  sometimes  it  has 
hurt  me  in  the  throat ;  and  now  that  I  'm  goin'  on,  I  don't 
want  to  cause  any  one  any  bother.  I  asked  Ty  to  tell  me 
if  he  was  married  to  the  woman,  and  he  did  tell  me.  I  'm 
sorry  to  say  'at  he  is  married  to  her,  Horace ;  but  I  'm  thank- 
ful to  Ty  for  tellin'  me.  He  don't  feel  easy  near  me ;  so  I 
wish  you  'd  move  me  back  to  the  bunk-shack." 

It  was  some  minutes  before  Horace  could  speak,  and  when 
he  did,  he  had  to  put  on  pressure  to  keep  his  voice  steady. 
"  I  don't  care  one  single  damn  what  Ty  Jones  wants,"  sez 
he.  "  Let  him  stay  right  where  he  is  and  learn  the  meanin' 
of  friendship  from  the  best  friend  a  man  ever  had."  After 
which  Horace  gave  The's  hand  a  grip  and  hurried  out  of  the 
room. 


CHAPTER   FORTY-FIVE 

THE   LITTLE   GUST   ()'    WIND 

I  HAVE  seen  some  mighty  quick  changes  brought  about  by 
flood  o'  circumstances  breakin'  on  a  man  all  of  a  sudden  — 
ol'  Cast  Steel  Judson,  himself,  had  melted  and  run  into  a  new 
mold  the  night  o'  Barbie's  weddin'  —  but  I  never  saw  such 
a  complete  change  as  had  took  place  in  The  since  I  'd  first 
seen  him.  He  loved  devilment  then,  like  a  bear  loves  honey ; 
while  now  he  had  swung  back  with  the  pendulem  clear  to 
the  other  side,  until  he  was  more  unworldly  'n  the  Friar  him- 
self. It  was  n't  what  he  said  'at  made  a  feller  feel  funny 
inside,  it  was  his  eyes.  His  eyes  were  all  the  time  tryin'  to 
tell  things  'at  his  tongue  could  n't  frame  up,  and  it  acted  like 
brakes  on  a  feller's  breathin'  apparatus. 

I  asked  the  Friar  about  it  one  evenin'  while  we  were 
walkin'  back  through  the  ravine.  He  walked  along  with  his 
brows  wrinkled  a  few  minutes,  and  then  said :  "  You  see, 
Happy,  the  whole  human  race  is  made  up  o'  millions  of  in- 
dividuals, and  each  one  is  some  alike  and  some  different.  A 
man  goes  through  childhood,  youth,  his  fightin'  period,  and 
old  age ;  and  the  race  has  to  do  the  same  thing. 

"  Now,  ages  ago  when  the  childhood  o'  the  race  began, 
folks  were  downright  primitive ;  they  used  stone  axes,  skins 
for  clothing,  and  ate  raw  flesh.  They  were  fierce,  impul- 
sive, passionate,  just  like  children  are  if  you  watch  'em  close 
enough ;  but  they  lived  close  to  nature,  just  like  the  children 


THE    LITTLE    GUST    O'    WIND      429 

do,  and  their  bodies  were  vigorous,  and  their  minds  were  like 
dry  sponges,  ready  to  absorb  whatever  fell  upon  'em. 

"  The  outdoor  man  of  to-day  is  still  primitive ;  he  delights 
in  his  dissipations,  and  recklessness,  but  the  grim,  set  face 
which  he  wears,  is  a  mask.  The  rich,  pure  air  is  all  the  time 
washin'  his  body  clean,  his  active  life  keeps  his  nerves  sound 
and  accurate,  and  his  heart  is  like  the  heart  of  a  little  child  — 
hungry  for  good  or  evil,  and  needin'  a  guiding  hand  all  the 
time. 

"  In  the  mornin'  a  child  is  so  full  o'  life  that  words  don't 
mean  much  to  him ;  but  when  the  play  o'  the  day  is  over,  he 
comes  home,  through  the  twilight  shadows,  bruised  an'  dis- 
appointed an'  purty  well  tired  out.  All  day  long  he  's  waged 
his  little  wars ;  but  now  he  is  mighty  glad  to  pillow  his  head 
close  to  his  mother's  heart;  and  then  it  is  that  the  seeds  o' 
gentleness  are  easiest  sprouted.  This  is  the  twilight  time 
for  Promotheus." 

We  did  n't  have  anything  more  to  say  on  this  walk ;  but 
we  both  had  plenty  to  think  of.  It  allus  seemed  to  me  that 
in  some  curious  way,  the  Friar,  himself,  was  better  'n  his  own 
religion.  His  religion  made  badness  a  feller's  own  fault; 
but  after  gettin'  to  know  the  Friar,  it  allus  made  ya  feel 
more  like  takin'  some  share  in  the  other  feller's  sin,  than  like 
pointin'  your  finger  at  him  and  sayin'  he  never  was  any  good, 
nohow. 

A  couple  o'  days  after  this,  the  doctor  told  us  that  the 
sands  were  runnin'  mighty  low  in  The's  hour-glass,  and  it 
would  n't  be  long  to  the  end ;  but  still  we  could  n't  believe 
it.  He  did  n't  look  bad,  nor  he  did  n't  suffer ;  and  we  had 
seen  him  come  back  from  the  grave  almost,  that  time  at 
Olaf 's  when  Horace  had  claimed  his  life,  and  had  saved  him 
in  spite  of  himself. 


430  FRIAR    TUCK 

Then  again,  the  doctor  had  missed  it  on  Janet,  and  we 
were  all  hopin'  he  'd  get  slipped  up  on  again ;  but  The 
himself  seemed  to  side  with  the  doctor,  and  Olaf  took  one 
long  look,  an'  then  shut  his  lips  tight  an'  shook  his  head. 
The  said  he  wanted  to  live,  and  had  done  all  he  could  to 
get  a  clinch  on  life;  but  that  it  was  slippin'  away  from 
him  drop  by  drop,  and  he  could  n't  stay  with  us  much 
longer. 

He  seemed  to  want  us  about  him,  so  we  dropped  in  and  sat 
beside  him  as  long  as  we  could  keep  cheerful.  All  through 
the  afternoon  he  lay  with  a  serious,  gentle  smile  on  his  lips, 
but  the  sadness  was  mostly  gone,  even  from  his  eyes.  I 
closed  my  own  eyes  as  I  sat  beside  him,  and  called  up  the 
picture  o'  Badger-face  the  day  he  had  wanted  to  lynch  Olaf. 
Then  I  opened  my  eyes  and  looked  at  the  real  Promotheus, 
and  I  understood  what  the  Friar  meant  by  bein'  born 
again. 

I  spoke  o'  this  to  oT  Tank  Williams,  and  he  fired  up  at  me 
as  though  I  had  poured  red  pepper  in  the  nose  of  a  sleepin' 
cripple.  "  You  're  a  nice  one,  you  are !  "  sez  he.  "  I  'd 
sooner  fill  myself  with  alcohol  and  die  in  a  stupor  than  to 
call  up  The's  past  at  such  a  time  as  this.  You  ought  to  be 
ashamed  o'  yourself." 

The'  was  no  way  to  make  Tank  see  what  I  meant  so  I 
sent  him  in  to  set  with  The  a  while,  and  took  a  little  walk 
up  the  ravine.  Every  step  I  took  brought  some  memory  o' 
the  time  The  and  Horace  and  I  had  first  started  to  find  out 
about  the  woman ;  and  it  was  n't  long  before  I  was  ready  to 
turn  back. 

Janet  was  quite  strong  by  this  time,  though  she  still  had 
to  wear  a  bandage ;  and  after  supper,  the  Friar  took  her  in 
to  see  Promotheus.  He  had  told  her  all  about  him,  and  she 


THE    LITTLE    GUST    O'    WIND     431 

was  mighty  sorry  to  think  'at  his  end  was  near.  She  did  n't 
recall  havin'  been  kind  to  him  when  he  was  playin'  cripple ; 
but  the  Friar  had  told  her  about  this,  too.  Horace  had  told 
the  Friar  about  what  Ty  had  said,  and  it  had  cut  him  purty 
deep ;  but  he  had  braced  up  better  'n  we  expected.  We 
did  n't  any  of  us  know  what  effect  bringin'  Janet  in  sight  o' 
Ty  would  have,  and  when  she  came  into  the  mess-hall,  we 
watched  purty  close. 

Ty  sat  propped  up,  with  his  clenched  hand  restin'  outside 
the  blanket,  and  an  expression  on  his  face  like  that  of  a 
trapped  mountain-lion.  He  glared  up  at  her  as  she  came 
near ;  but  she  only  looked  at  him  with  pity  in  her  eyes,  and 
she  didn't  seem  to  recognize  him,  at  all  —  just  looked  at 
him  as  though  he  was  a  perfect  stranger  which  she  was  sorry 
for,  and  Tank,  who  was  settin'  next  me,  gave  me  a  nudge 
in  my  short  ribs,  which  was  about  as  delicate  as  though  it 
had  come  from  the  hind  foot  of  a  mule.  "  Well  ?  "  I  whis- 
pered. "  What  do  ya  mean  by  that  ?  " 

"  Could  n't  ya  see  'at  she  did  n't  know  him?  "  sez  Tank. 

"  That 's  nothin',"  sez  I.    "  He  knew  her  all  right." 

"  Yes,  but  Great  Scott,"  sez  he,  "  a  man  can't  claim  that 
a  woman  's  his  wife  if  she  don't  know  him,  can  he  ?  " 

"  Pshaw,"  sez  I,  "  if  you  'd  settle  things  that  way,  the' 
would  n't  be  any  married  people  left.  The'  ain't  one  woman 
in  fifty  'at  knows  her  husband,  and  the'  ain't  any  men  at  all 
who  know  their  wives." 

"  You  're  just  dodgin'  the  question,"  sez  Tank.  "  I  claim 
that  if  a  man  marries  a  woman  when  she  's  out  of  her  mind, 
he  ain't  got  any  claim  on  her  when  she  gets  back  into  her 
mind  again." 

"  Look  here,  Tank,"  sez  I ;  "  you  've  never  had  much  ex- 
perience with  the  world,  'cause  every  time  you  went  where 


432  FRIAR    TUCK 

experience  was  to  be  had,  you  got  too  intoxicated  to  take 
notice ;  but  I  'm  tellin'  you  the  truth  when  I  say  that  if 
women  did  n't  sometimes  get  out  o'  their  right  minds,  they 
would  n't  get  married  at  all." 

"  Aw,  shut  up,"  sez  Tank. 

Janet  had  gone  over  to  Promotheus,  and  was  smoothin' 
his  forehead.  She  had  a  beautiful,  shapely  hand,  and  it 
made  me  feel  a  little  wishful  to  watch  her.  The  lay  per- 
fectly still,  and  his  sensations  must  'a'  been  peculiar.  Ty 
Jones  didn't  even  look  at  'em.  He  kept  his  brows  scowled 
down  and  his  gaze  out  the  south  window. 

Presently  Janet  turned  and  walked  out  to  the  porch.  It 
was  an  unusually  warm  night,  and  she  sat  there  alone,  while 
the  Friar  came  back  to  The.  Horace  had  gone  off  by  himself 
to  get  a  grip  on  his  feelin's;  but  he  came  in  about  nine 
o'clock,  and  went  up  and  took  The's  hand.  "  Well,"  sez  he, 
"  have  you  finally  got  over  your  nonsense  ?  I  have  a  lot  o' 
plans  I  want  to  carry  out,  and  you  know  I  can't  have  you 
loafin'  much  longer." 

Nothin'  suited  The  so  well  as  to  have  a  little  joke  put  at 
him ;  but  he  did  n't  have  any  come-back  to  this.  He  caught 
at  his  breath  a  time  or  two,  and  then  said :  "  I  can't  do  it, 
this  time,  Horace.  I  hate  to  disappoint  ya  —  I  've  been 
countin'  on  what  a  good  time  we  were  goin'  to  have  —  up 
there  in  the  hills  —  but  I  can't  come  back  this  time  —  I, 
can't,  quite,  make  it." 

He  ended  with  a  little  gurgle  and  sank  back  on  the  pillow. 
Horace  shook  him  a  little  and  then  flew  for  the  doctor,  who 
was  on  the  porch  o'  the  old  cabin.  They  were  back  in  half 
a  minute,  Horace  pushin'  the  doctor  before  him ;  and  we  all 
held  our  breaths  when  he  felt  The's  pulse.  The  doctor 
squirted  somethin'  into  The's  arm,  and  after  a  bit,  he  opened 


THE    LITTLE    GUST    O'    WIND     433 

his  eyes  with  a  long  sigh,  and  when  he  saw  Horace  bendin' 
over  him,  he  smiled. 

"  I  mighty  near  slipped  away  that  time,"  sez  he.  "  It 's 
not  goin'  to  be  hard,  Horace ;  and  I  don't  want  you  to  worry. 
I  feel  as  comfortable  as  if  I  was  sleepin'  on  a  cloud,  and 
there  is  n't  one,  single  thing  to  grieve  about.  I  've  been 
like  one  o'  those  hard  little  apples  which  take  so  long  to  ripen. 
I  've  hung  up  on  a  high  bough  and  the  rains  beat  on  me,  and 
the  sun  shone  on  me,  and  the  winds  shook  me  about,  and  the 
birds  pecked  at  me  until  at  last  just  the  right  sort  o' 
weather  came  along  and  I  became  softer  and  softer,  and  riper 
and  riper,  until  now  my  hold  on  the  stem  begins  to  weaken. 
Purty  soon  a  little  gust  '11  come  along  and  shake  me  down 
on  the  green  grass;  but  this  is  all  right,  this  is  perfectly 
natural,  and  I  don't  want  you  to  feel  bad  about  it. 

"  I  own  up  now,  that  I  've  been  afraid  o'  death  all  my  life ; 
but  this  has  passed.  I  don't  suffer  a  bit;  but  I  'm  tired,  just 
that  pleasant  weariness  a  feller  feels  when  his  last  pipe  has 
been  smoked,  and  the  glow  o'  the  camp  fire  begins  to  form 
those  queer  pictures,  in  which  the  doin's  o'  that  day  mingle 
with  the  doin's  of  other  days.  I  'm  liable  to  drop  off  to  sleep 
at  any  moment,  now ;  and  I  'd  like  —  I  'd  kind  o'  like  to 
shake  hands  with  the  boys  before  I  go." 

Well,  this  gave  Horace  something  to  do,  and  he  was 
mighty  glad  to  do  it.  After  we  had  all  shaken  hands  with 
The,  he  marched  up  the  prisoners,  even  to  the  Chink,  and 
they  all  shook  hands,  too ;  and  by  this  time  Prometheus  was 
purty  tired ;  but  he  did  look  unusual  contented.  He  glanced 
across  at  Ty;  but  Ty  had  turned  his  face  to  the  wall,  and 
The  gave  a  little  sigh,  settled  down  into  the  pillow  again,  and 
closed  his  eyes.  Horace  backed  around  until  The  could  n't 
see  him,  and  shook  his  fist  at  Ty,  good  and  earnest. 


434  FRIAR    TUCK 

Purty  soon  a  regular  grin  came  to  The's  face,  and  he 
opened  his  eyes  and  looked  at  the  Friar  with  a  twinkle  in 
'em.  "  Friar  Tuck,"  sez  he,  "  I  don't  know  as  I  ever  men- 
tioned it  before,  but  I  '11  confess  now  that  I  'm  right  glad 
I  did  n't  lynch  you  for  stealin'  those  hosses."  He  lay  there 
smilin'  a  minute,  and  then  held  out  his  hand.  "  Good-bye, 
Horace,"  he  said  in  a  firm  voice. 

Horace  had  been  doin'  uncommon  well  up  to  now;  but 
he  could  n't  stand  this.  He  threw  himself  on  the  bed,  took 
both  o'  The's  hands  and  looked  down  into  his  face.  "  Pro- 
motheus,  Promotheus,"  he  called  to  him  in  a  shakin'  voice. 
"  Don't  give  up !  You  can  win  if  you  fight  a  while  longer. 
Remember  that  day  in  the  desert,  when  I  wanted  to  lie  down 
and  end  it  all.  You  said  you  did  n't  take  any  stock  in  such 
nonsense;  and  you  picked  me  up  and  carried  me  over  the 
molten  copper,  while  queer  things  came  out  o'  the  air  and 
clutched  at  us.  You  reached  the  water-hole  that  time,  Pro- 
motheus, and  you  can  do  it  again,  if  you  just  use  all  your 
might." 

Promotheus  opened  his  eyes  and  his  jagged,  gnarly  teeth 
showed  in  a  smile,  weak  and  trembly,  but  still  game  to  the  last 
line  of  it.  "  Nope,"  he  said  so  low  we  could  hardly  hear 
him,  "  I  'm  Promotheus,  all  right.  I  hung  on  as  long  as  I 
could;  but  the  vultures  have  finished  my  liver  at  last, 
Horace  —  they  have  finally  finished  it.  I  hate  to  leave  you ; 
but  I  '11  have  to  be  goin'  soon.  The's  only  one  thing  I  ask 
of  ya  —  don't  send  a  single  one  o'  the  boys  to  the  pen. 
They  don't  know  what  the  world  really  is ;  but  shuttin'  'em 
out  of  it  won't  ever  teach  'em.  If  the's  anything  you  can 
do  to  give  'em  a  little  start,  it  would  be  a  mighty  good  thing 
—  a  mighty  good  thing."  His  voice  was  gettin'  awful  weak, 
an'  he  'd  have  to  rest  every  few  words. 


THE    LITTLE    GUST    O'    WIND     435 

"  And  Ty  Jones,  too,"  he  went  on,  "  Ty  was  square  with 
me  in  the  old  days.  Try  to  make  him  understand  what  it  was 
'at  turned  me  again'  him;  and  if  the's  any  way  to  make 
things  easier  for  Ty,  I  want  you  to  have  it  done.  Ty  had 
a  lot  o'  tough  times,  himself,  before  he  turned  all  the  hard 
part  of  his  nature  outside.  Don't  bear  him  any  malice, 
Horace.  Seventy  times  seven,  the  Friar  sez  we  ought  to 
forgive,  and  that  many  '11  last  a  long  time,  if  a  feller  don't 
take  offence  too  easy.  The's  a  lot  o'  things  I  don't  under- 
stand ;  but  some  way  it  seems  to  me  that  if  I  could  just  go 
out  feelin'  I  had  squared  things  with  Ty,  I  'd  be  a  leetle 
mite  easier  in  my  mind." 

Horace  stepped  to  Ty's  bed  and  shook  him  by  the  arm. 
"  Did  you  hear  what  he  said?  "  he  demanded.  "  You  know 
he  's  achin'  to  have  you  speak  to  him  decent.  Why  don't  ya 
speak  to  him  ?  " 

Ty  looked  cold  and  stony  into  Horace's  eyes,  and  then 
took  his  left  hand  and  pushed  Horace's  grip  from  off  his 
arm.  Horace  stood  lookin'  at  Ty  with  his  fist  clinched. 
The  turned  and  saw  it  and  a  troubled  look  came  into  his 
face. 

"  Friar  Tuck,"  he  said,  "  you  meant  it,  did  n't  ya  —  that 
about  forgivin'  seventy  times  seven?  " 

"  I  did,"  sez  the  Friar,  his  voice  ringin'  out  clear  and 
strong  in  spite  of  its  bein'  low  pitched.  "  Be  at  peace,  Pro- 
motheus,  the  laws  of  man  are  at  war  with  the  laws  of  God ; 
but  they  're  bound  to  lose  in  the  end.  I  want  you  to  know 
that  I  forgive  Ty  Jones  as  fully  as  you  do  —  and  I  shall 
do  everything  in  my  power  to  square  things  up  with 
him." 

The  held  out  his  hand  to  the  Friar,  and  they  clasped  in  a 
comrade-grip.  "  I  can  trust  you,"  he  said ;  "  and  I  know 


436  FRIAR    TUCK 

you  '11  do  all  you  can  to  make  Horace  see  it  that  way, 
too." 

"  I  forgive  him,  too,  you  big  goose !  "  cried  Horace.  "  I 
promise  you  that  I  '11  do  all  I  can  for  him  —  on  your  account. 
Though  I  must  say  —  but  no,  I  mean  it,  Promotheus. 
I  forgive  him  from  my  heart,  and  I  '11  be  as  good  a  friend 
to  him  as  I  can." 

"  Now,  let  the  little  gust  o'  wind  come,"  sez  The.  "  I  'm 
perfectly  ripe  and  ready  for  it,  now." 

The'  was  silence  for  several  minutes;  and  then  Promo- 
theus said  in  a  faint  voice :  "  Friar,  I  wish  you  'd  sing  to 
me.  All  my  life  I  Ve  longed  to  hear  a  cradle-song,  a  regular 
baby  cradle-song.  I  know  it 's  a  damn-fool  notion ;  but  I 
never  had  it  so  strong  as  I  've  got  it  now  —  and  I  wish 
you  'd  sing  one  to  me.  My  mother  was  a  widow,  mostly. 
She  cleaned  out  offices  at  night  to  earn  enough  to  keep  us 
alive.  She  sacrificed  her  life  for  me,  but  I  could  n't  under- 
stand this  then. 

"  Night  after  night  I  used  to  creep  in  from  the  street 
through  dirty,  stinkin'  halls,  and  cry  myself  to  sleep.  An 
achin'  came  into  my  heart  then  which  hasn't  never  quite 
left  it;  and  it  was  this  lonesomeness  'at  finally  made  me 
run  away  —  leavin'  her  to  face  it  out  —  all  by  herself. 

"  My  blood  has  turned  to  water,  I  reckon,  and  I  feel  like  a 
baby  to-night.  I  don't  suffer,  understand ;  I  feel  as  though 
I  was  a  little  chap  again,  and  that  my  mother  didn't  have 
to  work;  but  was  holdin'  me  on  her  lap.  She  did  hold  me 
that  way  once  —  the  time  the  ambulance  brought  my  old 
man  home  —  but  she  couldn't  sing  then.  It  seems  to  me 
that  if  you  'd  just  sing  me  a  regular  cradle-song  —  I  could 
slip  away  into  pleasant  dreams." 

The  Friar  cleared  his  throat  a  time  or  two  before  he 


THE    LITTLE    GUST    O'    WIND     437 

found  his  voice ;  and  then  he  said  in  a  low  tone :  "  I  used 
to  sleep  in  a  store-box,  Promotheus,  when  I  was  a  lad  — 
and  I  know  exactly  what  you  feel.  I  '11  sing  you  a  cradle- 
song,  a  song  for  little  children  of  all  ages.  It  is  a  great 
privilege  to  be  a  little  child,  Promotheus,  and  —  and  I  wish 
you  pleasant  dreams." 

Then  Friar  Tuck  drew  a  deep,  full  breath,  and  held  it 
down  until  all  the  quiver  had  gone  from  his  lips.  When 
he  started  to  sing,  his  voice  was  low  an'  soothin',  and 
full  o'  tenderness;  and  after  the  first  line,  Promotheus 
gave  a  little  sigh  o'  content,  nodded  his  head,  and  shut  his 
eyes. 

The'  was  one  tune  we  every  last  one  of  us  liked.  The 
Friar  generally  sang  it  to  words  which  began :  "  Guide  me, 
O  Thou  great  Jehovah  "  ;  and  he  usually  sang  it  with  a  swing 
which  was  like  a  call  to  battle;  and  this  time  he  sang  the 
same  tune,  but  soft  and  close  and  restful,  and  the  words  he 
used  began :  "  Jesus,  tender  Shepherd,  hear  me."  These 
words  sound  purty  flat  when  ya  give  'em  cold;  but  they 
did  n't  sound  empty  to  us,  as  we  stood  lookin'  down  at  Pro- 
motheus. All  alone,  he  had  taken  his  chance  when  he  took 
on  with  Ty  Jones ;  and  now  he  was  cashin'  in  this  chance 
and  it  made  us  mighty  sober. 

The  Friar  finished  the  first  four  lines  alone,  and  then  the 
angels  seemed  to  join  in  with  him.  We  had  all  been  purty 
certain  that  the'  was  n't  nothin'  in  the  shape  of  earthly 
melody  fit  to  hold  a  candle  to  the  Friar;  but  just  at  this 
point  a  new  voice  joined  onto  the  Friar's  which  sent  a  thrill 
through  us  and  made  us  stop  breathin'.  A  queer,  half 
frightened  look  crossed  the  Friar's  face  for  a  second;  but 
his  voice  did  n't  waver  for  a  single  note.  Instead,  the'  came 
a  new  tone  of  thanksgivin'  and  confidence  in  it  which  took 


438  FRIAR    TUCK 

all  the  sting  out  o'  death  and  made  it  all  right  and  pleasant, 
like  the  cool  and  restfulness  o'  night,  after  the  heat  of  day. 

"All  this  day  Thy  hand  has  led  me, 
And  I  thank  Thee  for  Thy  care; 
Thou  hast  warmed  me,  clothed  and  fed  me; 
Listen  to  my  evening  prayer," 

went  on  the  song  and  the'  came  an  expression  of  wonder 
and  of  joy  into  The's  tired  face. 

There  are  only  three  little  verses  to  this  one,  and  to  fill 
out  the  tune  they  had  to  sing  the  first  one  over  again,  soft 
and  low.  The  candles  threw  a  soft  glow  on  The's  face  which 
hid  the  pallor  of  it  and  the  rough  lines,  but  brought  out 
all  the  kindly  strength  we  had  come  to  be  so  fond  of ;  and 
when  the  music  died  away,  we  all  sat  still  for  fear  o'  dis- 
turbin'  him. 

Horace  had  been  settin'  holdin'  one  of  his  hands,  and 
after  a  bit  he  leaned  forward  and  whispered,  "  Was  that 
what  you  wanted,  Promotheus  ?  " 

But  the'  was  n't  any  reply.  The  little  gust  o'  wind  had 
come  with  the  song  —  and  fully  ripe,  and  soft  to  the  core 
of  his  big,  warm  heart,  Promotheus  had  loosed  his  hold  on 
the  bough  of  life,  and  dropped  off  onto  the  soft,  deep  grass 
of  eternity. 

"  Promotheus !  Promotheus !  "  cried  Horace,  and  then 
covered  his  face  with  his  hands  and  dropped  forward  upon 
The's  quiet  breast. 

"  Badger-face,"  called  a  harsh  voice,  and  we  looked  at 
Ty  Jones  and  saw  him  leanin'  towards  The.  "  Wait,  Bad- 
ger-face, wait  —  I  want  to  speak  to  ya.  I  want  to  tell  you 
that  I  lied  to  ya.  Oh  Lord,  it 's  too  late,  it 's  too  late !  " 
And  Ty  Jones  pressed  his  hand  across  his  eyes  and  sank 
back. 


THE    LITTLE    GUST    O'    WIND     439 

Horace  whirled  to  tell  Ty  what  he  thought  of  him; 
but  the  Friar  placed  his  big  hand  on  Horace's  shoulder, 
and  pointed  down  to  The's  placid  face.  Horace  gave 
a  shudderin'  sob,  and  settled  back  into  his  former 
position. 

Janet  Morris  crossed  the  floor  to  the  Friar  just  then  and 
said  to  him  in  a  low  tone :  "  I  have  found  it  again  —  my 
voice  has  come  back  to  me." 

Ty  Jones  took  his  hand  down  from  his  eyes  and  straight- 
ened up  and  looked  at  her.  All  the  eagle  had  gone  from 
his  face,  and  it  looked  old  and  haggard.  "  Don't  you  really 
know  who  I  am  ?  "  he  asked. 

She  looked  at  him  and  shook  her  head. 

"  I  'm  your  half-brother,"  he  said  "  I  'm  Tyrell  Jones 
Morris.  Your  mother  might  have  been  a  good  woman, 
but  she  was  not  good  to  me  —  she  wasn't  fair;  she  preju- 
diced my  father  again'  me.  You  were  sellin'  tickets  at  an 
elevated  station  in  New  York  when  I  found  you.  You 
looked  a  good  deal  like  your  mother,  for  you  were  weak  and 
sickly.  I  did  n't  know  then,  whether  I  brought  you  back 
with  me  because  we  had  the  same  blood  in  our  veins,  or 
because  I  hated  you  —  and  I  don't  know  yet.  I  'm  not  tellin' 
you  this  now,  because  I  care  any  thing  for  you,  or  the 
preacher;  but  Badger-face  was  square,  and  I  know  now 
'at  he  'd  never  have  turned  again'  me  if  the  rest  of  ya  had  n't 
tampered  with  him.  I  'm  sorry  I  did  n't  tell  him  before  he 
died  —  and  that 's  why  I  'm  tellin'  you  now." 

I  winked  my  eyes  to  the  boys,  and  we  filed  out  and  went 
over  to  the  bunk-shack.  We  lighted  our  pipes  and  sat  a 
long  time  smokin'  in  silence.  One  by  one  they  dropped  off 
to  bed  until  only  me  and  ol'  Tank  Williams  was  left.  Tank 
sat  with  a  sour  look  on  his  face,  and  so  deeply  buried  in 


440  FRIAR    TUCK 

thought  that  the  burnt  matches  around  his  stool  looked  like 
a  wood  pile.  "  What  are  ya  thinkin'  of,  Tank  ?  "  I  said  to 
him. 

"  I  'm  not  kickin',  understand,"  sez  he ;  "  but  it  does  seem 
to  me  that  when  all  The  asked  for  was  a  cradle-song,  the 
Friar  could  'a'  thought  up  somethin'  besides  another  one  o' 
those  doggone  sheep-herder  hymns.  The  did  n't  have  any 
more  use  for  sheep-herders  'n  I  have." 

This  was  the  real  Tank,  all  right.  Once  an  idee  took 
possession  of  him,  it  rode  him  rough  shod  till  he  keeled  over 
with  his  tongue  hangin'  out. 


CHAPTER   FORTY-SIX 

THE   FINAL   MOVES 

WE  buried  The  by  the  side  o'  Tim  Simpson.  Horace  insisted 
on  makin'  a  coffin  for  him  —  fact  was,  he  wanted  to  have  a 
regular  funeral,  but  we  talked  him  out  o'  this ;  so  he  made 
a  coffin  himself  and  lined  it  with  silk  which  Ty  Jones  had 
brought  out  for  Janet  to  make  dresses  of.  The  Friar  held 
some  short  services,  but  he  did  n't  sing  or  preach  any.  Some 
way,  the'  did  n't  seem  to  be  any  need  of  it.  After  we 
had  covered  him  over  we  stood  around  talkin'  for  quite 
a  while;  and  then  only  turned  away  because  the  first  rain 
we  had  had  for  months  came  rattlin'  down  from  the 
mountains. 

"  Do  you  see  that,  now  ? "  asked  ol'  Tank  after  we  had 
reached  the  porch  and  were  sittin'  watchin'  it  come  down 
in  torrents. 

"  I  'm  not  totally  blind,"  sez  I. 

"Well,  I'm  not  superstitious,"  sez  Tank;  "but  I'm 
bettin'  that  he  's  had  that  tended  to,  himself.  He  was  n't 
one  to  forget  his  friends,  and  he  knew  'at  what  we  needed 
most  was  rain  —  so  he 's  called  attention  to  it  the  first 
chance  he  's  had." 

Fact  was,  Tank  was  so  everlastin'  superstitious  that  he 
spelt  Tomas  with  an  "  h  "  in  it  to  keep  from  havin'  thirteen 
letters  in  his  full  name;  but  it  did  seem  queer  about  this 
rain,  because  they  was  n't  any  sane  man  in  the  world  who 
would  have  expected  a  rain  just  at  this  time.  It 's  astonishin' 


442  FRIAR    TUCK 

how  many  curious  things  there  is  if  a  feller  just  takes  notice 
of  'em. 

The  Friar  and  Ty  had  had  a  long  talk  the  night  'at  Pro- 
motheus  slipped  away,  and  the  Friar  had  agreed  to  settle 
down  at  the  ranch  and  do  what  he  could  for  Ty.  Ty  was  n't 
thankful ;  but  he  had  n't  much  choice,  so  he  behaved  better  'n 
any  one  would  have  expected.  The  Friar  wanted  me  to 
stay  and  be  foreman  for  him ;  but  I  told  him  I  had  promised 
Jabez  to  come  back  as  soon  as  I  had  got  a  good  holt  on 
myself  again;  and  I  intended  to  leave  for  the  Diamond 
Dot  the  minute  things  were  right  at  the  Cross  brand.  The 
Friar  did  n't  much  trust  Pepper  Kendal  for  foreman ;  but 
the  minute  I  thought  it  over,  I  saw  that  Olaf  was  the  very 
man,  and  this  suited  the  Friar  to  a  T. 

We  brought  the  prisoners  up  to  Ty  and  he  told  'em  how 
things  were  and  advised  'em  to  adjust  themselves  to  new 
conditions  as  fast  as  possible,  and  they  all  agreed  to  do  it 
and  went  to  work  under  Olaf.  The  Friar  knew  a  preacher 
at  Laramie;  so  Horace  gave  Tillte  Dutch  the  job  o'  goin' 
after  him,  and  as  soon  as  he  came,  the  Friar  and  Janet  were 
married,  and  then  I  made  plans  to  hit  the  trail  for  the  Dia- 
mond Dot. 

Horace  had  made  up  his  mind  to  build  himself  a  cabin 
up  at  our  old  camp  and  he  tried  to  hire  me  for  life;  but  I 
had  taken  root  at  the  Diamond,  and  when  I  explained  things 
to  him,  he  owned  up  I  was  right.  I  suggested  to  Horace 
that  ol'  Tank  Williams  was  the  very  man  for  him,  and  he  ad- 
mitted, when  he  came  to  look  it  over,  that  Tank  would  suit 
him  a  heap  better  for  hired  help  'n  I  would.  He  even  went 
so  far  as  to  say  he  never  could  understand  how  it  came  'at 
a  stiff-necked  man  like  ol'  Jabez  could  put  up  with  my  inde- 
pendent ways.  I  told  Horace  the'  was  a  lot  of  things  it 


THE    FINAL    MOVES  443 

was  n't  necessary  for  him  to  understand,  and  then  I  whistled 
to  Tank,  and  he  came  over  and  joined  us. 

Tank  rolled  the  notion  about  in  his  head  a  while,  and  then 
he  sez :  "  Horace,  I  '11  take  ya  up.  We  both  got  cured  up 
of  our  nerves  on  the  same  trip,  and  ever  since  then  I  have  to 
own  that  you  've  found  favor  in  my  sight ;  but  the  one  thing 
'at  counts  bigger  'n  anything  else,  is  the  fact  that,  come 
what  will,  you  '11  never  have  any  more  hankerin'  to  be  pes- 
tered by  a  lot  o'  sheep,  than  I  will." 

Olaf  started  to  get  things  ready  for  the  round-up  and  us 
Diamond  Dot  boys,  aside  from  ol'  Tank,  rode  off  home,  where 
we  found  things  in  consid'able  of  a  muddle.  Durin'  the 
three  years  previous  I  had  been  takin'  more  and  more  o'  the 
responsibility  onto  my  own  shoulders,  and  ol'  Cast  Steel  found 
himself  purty  rusty.  We  turned  to  and  straightened  things 
out,  and  then  I  settled  down  to  the  sober  business  o'  handlin' 
a  big  outfit  with  a  view  on  the  future. 

After  this,  I  didn't  do  any  more  skitin'  around  than  my 
peculiar  nature  seemed  to  insist  on;  but  I  did  make  out 
to  pay  the  Cross  brand  a  visit  every  once  in  a  while.  The 
Friar  only  intended  to  stay  long  enough  to  get  things  to 
slidin'  easy;  and  then  he  and  Janet  were  to  go  back  East 
and  work  among  the  city  poor;  but  the  chance  never  came. 

Janet  grew  perfectly  strong  and  well  again ;  but  the  city 
allus  made  her  nervous  to  return  to  the  mountains,  and  they 
were  kept  so  busy  on  the  ranch  that  the  years  slipped  away 
without  bein'  noticed. 

Ty's  backbone  was  all  in  one  piece,  and  solid  —  except 
where  Olaf  had  unjointed  it  —  and  it  took  years  to  wear 
him  down  to  friendliness;  but  when  the  Friar's  first  baby 
got  big  enough  to  creep,  the  contrary  little  cuss  took  more 
interest  in  ol'  Ty  Jones,  than  in  airy  other  thing  the'  was 


444  FRIAR    TUCK 

on  the  place.  I  never  saw  any  one  yet  who  did  n't  feel  flat- 
tered at  a  baby's  endorsement  —  though  why  a  baby  should 
be  supposed  to  actually  have  better  judgment  than  grown 
folks  has  never  been  fully  explained  to  me  yet. 

Horace  kept  his  word  to  The,  and  he  did  all  he  could  for 
Ty.  Ty  didn't  like  him  and  he  didn't  like  Ty;  but  Ty 
was  human,  and  it  made  him  lonely  to  sit  in  one  spot  all 
the  time,  so  that  while  he  refused  to  be  thankful,  he  gradu- 
ally got  to  relyin'  on  Horace;  and  Horace  was  also  human, 
and  the  more  he  did  for  Ty  on  The's  account,  the  more  fond 
he  grew  of  Ty  on  his  own  account.  He  got  him  a  wheel- 
chair first,  and  this  was  a  big  help.  Then  he  fixed  up  a 
trapeze  for  Ty  to  practice  on.  Ty  got  mad  about  this  and 
said  that  cripple  though  he  was,  no  man  could  make  a 
monkey  of  him ;  but  one  night  when  he  could  n't  sleep  he 
practiced  on  it,  and  it  gave  him  a  lot  o'  relief. 

The  name  of  the  Chinaman  was  Yuen  Yick,  and  he 
thought  'at  Ty  Jones  was  some  sort  of  a  god,  and  fair  wor- 
shipped him  —  every  one  o'  Ty's  men  swore  by  him,  even 
after  he  turned  decent.  Ty  used  to  abuse  the  Chink  all  he 
could  and  it  pleased  'em  both;  and  the  Chink  saw  that 
Horace  meant  well  by  Ty,  so  he  kept  Horace  posted  on  just 
what  Ty  did  and  thought ;  and  Horace  had  Janet  make  some 
flannel  bricks  filled  with  cotton  for  Ty  to  throw  at  the 
Chinaman.  Ty  got  a  lot  o'  satisfaction  out  o'  these  bricks, 
and  the  exercise  helped  him  too. 

Next,  Horace  had  a  wide  porch  built  all  around  TV'S 
house,  and  he  swung  ropes  with  rings  on  'em  from  the  ceil- 
ing, an  equal  distance  apart ;  and  Ty  got  so  he  could  swing 
from  ring  to  ring,  and  go  all  around  the  house,  and  climb 
ladders,  and  as  the  boy  got  big  enough  to  become  tyrannical, 
which  was  soon  enough,  goodness  knows,  he  made  Ty  do  all 


THE    FINAL    MOVES  445 

manner  o'  stunts  —  throw  balls  and  juggle  'em,  tell  stories, 
draw  pictures  —  Well,  the  fact  was,  that  between  'em  all, 
they  kept  Ty  so  active  that  first  we  knew,  the  devil  had  all 
been  worked  out  of  him  and  he  was  as  civilized  as  any  of 
us.  One  day  when  Horace  was  down  visitin'  him,  he  sent 
in  the  Chink  and  had  him  bring  out  a  set  of  ivory  figures, 
carved  most  beautiful  and  called  chess-men;  and  he  dared 
Horace  to  play  him  a  game,  and  this  was  the  final  surrender 
of  the  old  Ty  Jones. 

He  was  a  well  edicated  man,  Ty  was;  and  each  winter 
when  he  had  left  the  ranch,  he  had  gone  to  some  big  city 
where  he  had  pertended  to  be  a  regular  swell.  No  one 
ever  found  out  just  what  had  soured  him  so  on  the  world, 
for  his  nature  was  to  be  sociable  to  a  degree.  He  said  that 
no  one  knew  the  cause  of  it  except  ol'  Promotheus,  and  it 
was  mightily  to  his  credit  that  he  hadn't  devulged  the 
secret. 

Ty  strung  out  his  surprises  quite  a  while.  It  seems  he  was 
also  an  inventor,  and  had  patents  which  brought  him  in  a 
lot  o'  money.  He  had  found  this  cave  and  had  just  widened 
it  where  widenin'  was  necessary,  and  had  built  his  cabin 
above  it.  The  floor  was  double  and  filled  with  earth,  and 
the  fake  drawers  were  also  filled  with  earth,  so  'at  no  sound 
would  show  that  it  was  hollow  underneath.  The  drawers 
swung  on  a  steel  piller  which  could  be  worked  from  above 
by  a  rope  which  hung  back  o'  his  bookcase  and  from  below 
by  a*  lever. 

It  was  a  curious  thing  to  see  Ty  Jones  with  his 
bristly  eyebrows  and  his  eagle's  beak  of  a  nose,  makin' 
mechanical  toys  for  the  Friar's  and  Olaf's  children. 
They  did  n't  put  any  limit  on  what  he  was  able  to  do,  and 
he  used  to  grumble  at  'em  as  fierce  as  a  grizzly  —  and  then 


446  FRIAR    TUCK 

back-track  like  an  Injun,  and  do  whatever  they  wanted 
him  to. 

The  Friar  never  quite  gave  up  his  plot  to  go  back  and 
work  among  the  poor;  but  the'  was  allus  so  many  things 
imposed  upon  him  by  the  home  folks  that  he  was  pestered 
with  letters  every  time  he  left;  and  usually  compromised 
by  gatherin'  up  a  bunch  o'  the  poor  as  hasty  as  possible,  and 
bringin'  'em  back  with  him.  His  head  was  full  of  what  he 
called  welfare  plans,  and  he  settled  the  poor  along  all  the 
likely  cricks  he  found  vacant,  and  bulldozed  'em  into  goin' 
to  work.  It 's  a  curious  coincident ;  but  most  of  'em  turned 
out  well. 

The'  was  a  bilious  feller  out  visitin'  me  once,  which  called 
himself  a  sosologist.  I  told  him  about  some  o'  the  Friar's 
projects ;  and  he  said  that  the  Friar  was  nothin'  but  a  rank 
Utopian,  and  that  this  sort  o'  work  would  never  remove  all 
the  evils  of  the  world. 

"  You  can  call  him  anything  ya  want  to,"  sez  I,  "  so  long 
as  it 's  a  word  I  don't  understand ;  but  the  Friar 's  not  tryin' 
to  remove  all  the  evils  in  the  world.  He  only  removes  those 
evils  he  can  find  by  spendin'  his  whole  life  in  huntin'  for 
'em;  but  he  certainly  does  remove  these  ones  in  quick  and 
able  shape." 

Another  time,  right  after  the  Friar  had  brought  about  a 
settlement  between  some  sheep  and  cattle  men,  a  preacher 
dropped  off  to  give  his  appetite  a  little  exercise  at  the  Dia- 
mond Dot.  He  belonged  to  the  same  herd  that  the  Friar 
had  cut  out  from,  and  I  thought  he  would  be  interested ;  so 
I  told  him  consid'able  about  the  Friar.  He  was  a  most  judi- 
cious-lookin'  man,  but  baggy  under  the  eyes  and  chi.  He 
got  all  fussed  up  when  I  spoke  well  o'  the  Friar,  and  said 
he  was  un-co-nonical,  said  he  was  unorthodox —  Oh,  he 


THE    FINAL    MOVES  447 

cut  loose  and  swore  at  the  Friar  in  his  own  tongue  'til  I 
about  lost  my  temper. 

"  Look  here,"  I  sez  to  him,  "  it  would  take  me  some  months 
to  tell  you  all  the  good  deeds  the  Friar  has  actually  done; 
but  I  '11  just  give  you  one  single  example.  If  I  was  to  live 
up  to  my  natural  disposition,  I  'd  wring  your  neck,  or  shoot 
off  your  ears,  or  somethin'  like  that ;  but  owin'  to  the  Friar 
havin'  taught  me  self-control,  I  'm  not  even  goin'  to  snap 
my  fingers  again'  your  blue  nose.  Make  yourself  perfectly  at 
home  here,  and  stay  as  long  as  the  East  can  spare  ya;  but 
you  '11  have  to  excuse  me  for  a  while,  as  the  Friar  has  just 
written  me  an  order  to  go  over  into  the  Basin  to  see  what 
can  be  done  for  a  young  feller  who  has  been  arrested  for 
hoss-stealin'." 

Horace  contributes  liberally  to  the  Friar's  projects;  but 
he  don't  take  a  hand  in  the  game,  himself  —  except  with 
the  imported  poor  which  are  gathered  at  the  Cross  brand, 
waitin'  to  be  transplanted.  Every  year  he  seems  to  shrink 
about  an  eighth  of  an  inch  smaller,  and  get  about  that  much 
tougher.  He  lights  out  for  a  trip  now  and  again,  and  ol' 
Tank  allus  tags  along,  grumblin'.  Tank  thinks  full  as  much 
of  Horace  as  The  did ;  but  Tank  's  a  different  proposition. 
The  easier  his  lot  is  the  more  he  grumbles ;  but  I  like  nothin' 
better  than  to  have  a  chat  with  him  over  old  times. 

One  night  I  was  up  visitin'  Horace,  and  after  supper  we 
got  a  little  restless  and  started  out  for  a  walk.  We  sauntered 
down  to  our  old  look-out  and  stood  gazin'  down  at  the 
lights  of  the  Cross  brand  ranch.  Ty  had  rigged  up  a  water 
power  to  manufacture  e-lectricity,  simply  because  the  chil- 
dren had  needed  it  to  run  some  o'  their  idees,  but  the'  was 
plenty  of  it  to  light  the  whole  place.  In  token  of  Ty's  brand, 
and  also  as  a  symbol  of  his  own  callin',  the  Friar  had  built 


448  FRIAR    TUCK 

an  immense  cross  on  the  cliff  just  above  the  mouth  of  the 
ravine,  and  on  the  upright,  and  at  each  end  o'  the  cross-piece 
were  big  electric  lights.  These  could  be  seen  for  miles,  and 
every  one  knew  'at  whatever  troubles  they  had,  there  was 
allus  welcome,  cheery  hospitality,  and  sound  advice  waitin' 
for  'em  in  the  shadow  of  this  cross. 

It  was  a  moonlight  night,  one  of  those  crisp,  bright  nights, 
when  it  makes  a  feller  feel  solemn  just  to  get  up  high  and 
look  down  at  the  beauty  of  the  old,  hard  Earth.  We  had 
been  talkin'  o'  the  old  days  as  usual;  but  not  talkin'  much, 
for  we  each  saw  the  same  set  of  pictures  when  we  looked 
down  from  here,  and  they  did  n't  need  many  words. 

"  Life  is  like  a  game  o'  chess,"  sez  Horace.  "  The  openin' 
is  not  so  absolutely  vital;  but  after  a  time  the'  comes  one 
little  move  which  is  the  keynote  of  all  the  balance  of  the  game 
—  and  the  same  is  true  o'  life.  The  way  things  has  turned 
out  down  yonder  seems  to  be  the  very  best  way  they  could 
have  turned  out;  but  it's  hard  to  look  back  and  tell  just 
what  was  the  keynote  of  it  all.  Of  course  Prometheus  — 
Prometheus  was  the  prime  mover;  but  then  all  the  way 
along  you  can  see  the  Friar's  influence.  What  would  you 
say  was  the  keynote  o'  this  tangled  game,  Happy  ?  " 

I  looked  down  at  Horace :  he  was  wearin'  a  battered  old 
hat,  rough  clothes  and  leggins,  and  smokin'  a  corncob  pipe. 
"  That 's  an  easy  one,"  sez  I,  tryin'  to  shake  off  a  feelin'  o' 
sadness  which  was  beginnin'  to  creep  over  me,  in  spite  of 
all  I  could  do ;  "  gettin'  your  nerves  cured  up,  Horace,  was 
the  keynote  of  it  all." 

"  That  was  a  long  time  ago,"  sez  Horace,  "  a  long,  long 
time  ago." 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A     000  757  560     8 


